Spice of Love - Completed

Chapter 9

Fall in line?

Cat's encounter with Sadiq left her sullen. Anyone who knew her knew that falling in line was the one thing she'd never do. The very idea went against the core of everything that was Catherine Little. He must know that. Know it and not like it. Did that mean Sadiq did not like her? Was he really saying that she needed to change to be acceptable?

All her hard-won assurance over past fears flew out the door at the very idea. Her fears over lack of acceptance now surged forward anew. Fears she kept well-hidden with a veneer of sneering disregard that secretly went no deeper than her skin. Did he see through her? Had he uncovered her secret? If he had, and had called her out on it besides, didn't that mean he knew her better than anyone else? Cat gulped back the sudden thickening to her throat. She lifted tear-drenched eyes to stare out her bedroom window, refusing to let it fall unchecked down her cheeks. Lucy was returning that day; there was no way she would be greeting her sister with eyes red from weeping.

Cat hid her glum visage with false cheer as she looked forward to the return of Lucy and her long-lost twin, Blaise. The only light at the end of her narrow tunnel. The sudden yearning to throw herself in her sister's arms and pour it all out had her heart sickening with impatience for her sister's arrival. But they were all restless like that. Mary Little being the worst, and her pacing to and fro setting off everyone else's nerves. She busied herself in the kitchen, preparing an elaborate lunch before marching out front in intervals to stare impatiently out the window, searching for Jace's Range Rover.

But then he was there, pulling up before their home. They all made for the front door at the same time and came tumbling out in undignified haste, no doubt making the very worst first impression possible on their long-lost brother. Uncertainty over their welcome had them diverting towards Lucy and drawing her in their embrace first, all the while peering at the six-foot-two-inches tall man, with dark skin and a shaved head. Tattoos covered a portion of his exposed skin as he swept out of the vehicle with nary a jacket. Blaise seemed unimpressed with the Melbourne winter chill. Muscles flexed as he dragged a bag out with him then let it drop heedlessly to the ground by his feet. He was stunning. Pride filled her at the sight of her brother, her gaze lifting to study his face. A chiselled jawline spoke of pure masculinity. A day's worth of growth darkened the skin across his cheeks. His blue gaze startling against his darker skin. They narrowed in apprehension, taking in an assortment of people that made the intimate circle of the Little family.

They allowed him a moment to take in their appearance before Mary pushed forward to helplessly wrap her arms about his muscular frame. The rest followed, more to use their strength to keep their mother from collapsing completely on weakened knees.

Cat felt her own knees wobble as her heart filled with the unexpected relief of having their lost brother back in the fold. She beamed a welcoming smile up at his startled face, ignoring the tears that now fell in a steady stream down her damp cheeks. If there ever was a time for a good crying, this was it. Her arms wrapped about him tighter, joining the others already squeezing the life out of Blaise Starr. Her own fears and worries forgotten in the welcome of the missing chunk of the Little family's beating hearts.

****

Sadiq the sadist. Two weeks in and there had been no further word from him. Breaking up with him left her empty. But that did nothing to stop her yearning for things between them to be once again hot and furious as before. Even now, the Sadist sat on her mind, playing his usual distracting tricks. She gave a half-smile, envisioning his naked torso slick with sweat, as it often had been after sex.

Cat pushed away from her window and got to her feet. Her stop had arrived. She got off the bus and made her way back home hurriedly. Her steps rushed due to the lateness of the hour and her lateness in turning up to her own birthday party. Seventeen years of age that day, but she felt no different. Other than the swelling tenderness about her breast and the bump below her ribs that was no longer so easy to conceal. Time was running short but that was not what had her picking up her pace to almost jogging speed. She was being followed. Again. But she was no longer certain if it was friend or foe who followed so closely after her. Concealed so carefully in the shadows. Dusk approached. That strange point in time where light meets dark. Twilight.