Page 37 of Lawless (Dauntless Island #2)

DOMINIC

W hen Natty had announced, hours ago, that he was coming back to my place, I sure as hell hadn’t imagined spending the night like this—soaked to the skin, sitting in a dark cave with Natty, his hostile brother, and a modest hoard of New Caledonian cigarettes.

Natty fell asleep pretty quickly, his head resting on my shoulder, me and Nipper Will sandwiching him between us to try to keep him warm.

When it was time to leave, we woke Natty up and helped him back down the steep path.

“You okay to swim?” I asked him, and he nodded.

Turned out he could still move as easily through the water as a seal, even with a sprained ankle. It was me who managed to hit every rock coming back out of the cave.

Moonlight! It felt dazzlingly bright as it hit me in the face. I’d never been happier to see the sky.

When we got back onto the rocky beach, we found Button John splayed out sleeping, my radio clutched to his chest like a teddy bear. He stank of rum still, and Nipper Will nudged him gently with his foot. Then not so gently, until he woke up with a snort.

“What happened? What time is it? What’s going on?”

Nipper Will sighed, then leaned down and hauled Button John to his feet. “I’ll walk him home,” he said. “You take Natty on your bike.”

I didn’t envy him volunteering to get Button John home, but I didn’t argue either. Natty needed a hot shower, a warm bed, and to have his ankle strapped.

I took it as slowly as possible on the way back to the village, but there was no avoiding the holes and ruts along the track, and Natty gripped me tightly and hissed in my ear every time we hit one.

“Stop saying sorry,” he said when I’d blurted it out too many times. “Just take me home, Dominic.”

The village was quiet when we made it back—quiet enough that I was sure Mavis would complain at the next council meeting about the noise of my bike.

The party at the church had ended, and the place was dark and empty when we puttered past it.

Out in the harbour, the moonlight sparkled on the water.

The statue of Josiah Nesmith stood watch over the ocean, a silent sentinel.

I pulled the bike into my front yard and turned off the ignition. Natty climbed off, holding onto the seat to avoid putting all his weight on his bad ankle. “Am I staying here tonight?”

“If you still want to.”

He bit his lip. “If you’ll still have me.”

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

I helped him limp towards the front door, where an impatient Frank waited, yowling to be let in.

* * *

I woke with the first glimmerings of dawn, which was annoying as hell since I was pretty sure I’d only had about three or four hours sleep in at most. But Natty was asleep in my bed, his back facing me, which almost made waking up worth it.

So did the way my track pants were too big on him, and had slipped down his hips as he slept, exposing the twin dimples just above the curve of his arse.

I leaned over and gently swept a tress of golden hair off his face.

He mumbled something sleepy in response and burrowed into the pillow he was hugging.

Which was my pillow, and very probably the reason I’d woken up so early—but it was impossible to be annoyed when he looked so angelic.

I climbed out of bed, careful to be quiet, and headed for the bathroom.

Frank met me at the top of the stairs, and I went down to the kitchen to feed her and to make myself a coffee.

I’d have to write up an incident report for last night—if only to have it on record if I needed any of my equipment replaced in the future.

I’d washed everything off last night after getting Natty into bed, and I’d be digging the Dubbin out later today for my leather belt, but I wasn’t sure how all the metal button studs on my pouches and my vest would hold up after their prolonged soak in saltwater.

I wouldn’t be mentioning the cigarettes in my report.

What was the point? Someone from Border Force would come over to the island and slap Young Harry Barnes with a fine.

That didn’t seem like a valuable use of their resources.

Besides, Natty wasn’t going to do that again, and Nipper Will was going to have a word with Young Harry Barnes today.

If Nipper Will’s words were anything like his glares, I was pretty sure that Young Harry wouldn’t be getting any more undeclared deliveries from passing yachts.

And... speak of the devil.

When I opened the kitchen door to let Frank out, I saw Nipper Will pulling on his orange fishing gear in the outdoor laundry. Since it was too late to turn my light off and pretend I wasn’t awake, I wandered outside and called out to him. “Do you want a cuppa before you head out?”

He climbed the fence.

“Where’s your mum?” I asked.

“She’s here,” he said. “Addy stayed over last night.”

“That working out for you guys?”

He grunted. “Didn’t come for an interrogation, copper.”

“It’s Dominic.”

He met my gaze and grunted again. “Dominic.” He followed me into my kitchen. “Natty okay?”

“Still asleep,” I said.

An uncomfortable expression crossed his face, and he smothered it with a scowl. “You’d better’ve gone easy on him last night.”

“What do you— Jesus !” I almost dropped the mug I was holding.

“Oh, yeah, Will, that’s totally what happened!

I brought home your injured brother and railed him hard all night long!

” I took a step back, just in case he didn’t have a sarcasm detector.

“I put him to bed, and he slept . Is it just me you think the worst of, or is it everyone?”

He stared at his boots for a moment. “Everyone,” he muttered, and then cleared his throat. “Where’s that coffee? I’ve got to get the boat out.”

I poured him a mug and passed it to him. “No days off for you guys, huh?”

He snorted, as though the very idea of it was a joke, and took a swallow of coffee.

I finished making mine and leaned against the kitchen sink to sip it.

I wondered if I’d have many mornings like this—inviting Nipper Will over for coffee and a chat.

If we powered through the awkwardness, it’d eventually disappear, right?

Will’s narrow gaze travelled around the kitchen, as though he was making an assessment of some kind, and then he let out a long, slow breath. “You gonna do anything about those cigarettes?”

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” I said, even though we both knew I could have picked up the phone and tipped off Border Force within minutes.

Nipper Will hummed. “Good.”

“But it better not happen again.” I was giving the islanders a lot of latitude here, and we both knew it.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” Nipper Will said with a nod. “Young Harry’s son, Sea John, works on the Adeline with me. Between him and me and Big Johnny, we’ll keep Young Harry in line. Natty and Button John too.”

“Good,” I said. “And if we can just keep it between us, that’d be best.”

For the first time since I’d met him, Nipper Will’s eyes shone with genuine amusement. “Keeping a secret? On Dauntless ? Good luck with that, copper.”

And then he swigged the rest of his coffee, set the mug down on the kitchen bench, and pushed his way out of my kitchen door.

And I might have imagined it, but I thought I heard him laughing as he strode away.

I took my coffee into my office and wrote up my report while Frank purred on the desk beside me. The awful floral curtains fluttered in the breeze from the harbour—apart from them, the view was incredible.

At eight, Natty was still sleeping, and I was back in the kitchen staring at the contents of my cupboards and wondering what the hell I was going to make us for breakfast. Toast was too pathetic, even for me.

Toasted sandwiches? No, that was my go-to for when he was working in the yard.

I had to be able to make something more than that, even if it was just scrambled eggs and bacon.

I actually had eggs, but I didn’t have bacon.

God. I’m going to have to go to the shop.

I wrote a note for Natty and tiptoed into my bedroom to leave it on the bedside table: Gone to the shop. Back in 10 unless Mavis kills me. I didn’t want him to wake up to an empty house and no explanation.

I’d just left the station and was passing the museum when Eddie appeared, his red flannel overshirt flapping around him in the wind. “Dominic, hey! I was just checking some old maps. Are you ready to go?”

The anti-aircraft gun stations. It felt like it had been years ago, not just last night, that me and Eddie had arranged to go looking for those today.

Probably because I’d aged at least a decade in that cave with Natty, thinking that every minute was our last. There was no way I was leaving Natty alone today to go and look for bits of brick and concrete and tin, or whatever the hell an anti-aircraft gun station looked like after eighty years of exposure to the weather and the islanders.

It had probably been recycled into someone’s chook pen or barbeque the second the Americans left.

“Shit,” I said, and dragged my hand through my hair. “I can’t, sorry. Maybe next weekend? Natty’s at my place and?—”

“Oh, the whole island saw that last night!” Eddie grinned. “It’s the honeymoon phase. I get it.”

“No, he sprained his ankle last night.”

Eddie blinked rapidly. “What were you doing?”

“Not what you’re thinking.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’m on my way to the shop to get some bacon for breakfast. Does next weekend work for looking for this gun station thing?”

“Yeah, no worries. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.” He fell into step beside me. “Is Natty okay? How did he sprain his ankle? Was it Sarah Hooper’s rum, because that stuff packs a punch.”

“Nah, just an accident. He’s fine.” We turned off the street that ran along the harbour wall, heading through the tiny village towards Mavis’s shop.

“Morning, Julie!” Eddie called out to a woman sitting in her front garden with a book and a cuppa.