Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x M!Reader

Twenty-Three

"Let em' knock.", you insisted hoarsely and reached for your mobile phone to see if there was a message.

But there was nothing except some info from social media apps. Your fingers began to tremble. It rang again.

Kyle frowned, leant to one side and tried to peer through the glass.

"Were you expecting visitors?", he asked, one eyebrow raised.

You shook your head. With your hands buried in your hair, you tried to calm your nerves. Everything tightened, squeezing the air out of your lungs and making the colours melt before your eyes.

"No!", you gasped hastily. "We're not expecting visitors."

Again you looked at the screen of your mobile phone. This time Kyle grabbed your wrist. With firm pressure, he forced you to look at him.

"(Y/N).", he gently tried to penetrate your thoughts. "Who's that?"

You shook your head.

It rang. Then there was an energetic knock on the door. Whoever was there wasn't going to leave just like that.

The doorbell rang again. And again.

You squinted your eyes.

"Shit...", you pressed out between clenched teeth. "Kyle. Please go upstairs and stay with the boys."

His eyebrows drew together. Silent questions were thrown into the space between you but you just shook your head. You couldn't tell him the truth. Not now. The situation was bad enough.

"Please.", you pleaded, your fingers clutching the wood of the kitchen counter.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He thought about it. Then he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

"If anything happens, call for me.", he asked.

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes fall shut and nodded slowly. The feel of his hand on yours ignited a burning sensation.

Warmth and a tingle danced between his dark skin and yours (S/C). Your fingers twitched, longing to join with his. It rang one last time before the knocking became so insistent that it caused a ringing in your ears.

"Thank you.", you whispered.

A mild smile spread across his face. But he couldn't banish the worry from his eyes. Only hesitantly did he pull away.

When his hand left yours, a kind of coldness spread through the spot that felt like a thousand tiny insects biting into your flesh. It burned, but not in the pleasant way it often did when Kyle touched you. It made you nervous.

Secretly, you didn't want him to leave. But he wasn't supposed to see what would happen next.

The knocking only became more vigorous. It sounded like the person was ready to fight their way inside. And you knew it was true.

There was only one way to get rid of her.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned on the kitchen counter. Your hands were shaking. But you had to. Otherwise this would go on all day and all night.

"Take it easy...", you mumbled. "Everything will be fine."

Your legs were like stone. Each step towards the door was harder than the next. It felt like your knees were stiff. The beating of your heart was so painful that one of your hands was placed on your chest to stifle it.

Inhaling deeply, you placed a hand on the knob of the door. And then you hesitated. Like so many times before. Tensely, you closed your fingers around the knob and opened the door.

Darkness greeted you. Only the soft glow of the lanterns on the steps illuminated the outline of a woman. Wrapping her arms around her plump body, she rubbed her legs together to warm herself.

You frown in confusion. It wasn't cold outside.

Why was she pretending to shiver?

Your gaze immediately fell on her arms, which were hidden under long sleeves.

"Why are you staring like that?", she asked with a biting undertone.

Your eyebrows raised. In the dull light, it was hard to read emotions in her brown face. Shadows enveloped her as if her presence would bring disaster to the house.

"Kimmy.", her name left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Almost annoyed, she lowered her eyes.

"Will you let me in?", she asked. "It is cold."

With a furrowed brow, you raised your hand in the air. It wasn't raining. And there was no wind. Small beads of sweat even covered her forehead.

You tried to look her in the eye, scrutinising her. She avoided your gaze and turned away.

"I want to visit my sons.", she insisted and came a step closer.

You stepped out of the door and pulled it shut behind you. She shouldn't set foot in this house.

"What are you doing here?", you asked, forced to remain calm. She gritted her white teeth.

"I have a right to visit.", she growled and came even closer.

Raising your hands in conciliation, you stepped back. She smelled strange, not unwashed but somehow dirty. As if she had been in a place she shouldn't have been.

Dark brown curls stood out from her head. Whenever Kimmy had been clean she had a slight resemblance to Gaz. Not just because they were both African British but because they had almost the same eye colour and face shape.

Sometimes she had reminded you of him. But now that he was back you couldn't explain why. Kyle was so different from her. So much better looking and less pushy. He was also calmer. And better with the boys.

He was the father who could replace the mother. You shook your head hastily.

Why did you think that?

That wasn't fair. Neither to Kyle nor Kimmy.

"You're allowed to visit, Kimmy.", anger flared up inside you all at once. "Supervised. You get in touch with your social worker and she'll get in touch with me for an appointment."

"I'm the mum!", she shoved angrily right in your face.

You leaned back, your back pressed against the wood of the door.

"You're a danger to the children."

"You're just trying to ruin my relationship with them."

"The family court has categorised you as unreliable! You're a mess, Kimmy."

Anger and sadness mingled in her brown eyes.