Eli Bell is the only son of a police chief inspector and a forensic scientist. He's grown up wonky in a world that only deals with the straight and narrow -- and his new boyfriend isn't helping. Rob Hawkes is six feet of muscle, tattoos, and arrest warrants. A career criminal and a former guest of Her Majesty's Prison Service, he'd rather hit Eli's parents than sit down to dinner with them. One wrong move, and Rob could destroy Eli -- and his family -- without a second thought. But this isn't what it looks like. Rob's not in control here -- and Eli's the one to blame.

What It Looks Like

The flat was on the top floor, up a narrow and dirty stairwell that usually stank of piss and weed. Eli hated the jog up, for the risk of some druggie thinking he’d have cash, or the local fucknut kids hanging about by the bins at the bottom—but the early evening created an odd lull at this time, and he was undisturbed.


Except by the music blaring from behind the door, the brass number nine—hanging by a single nail, and upside-down—shaking with the force of it.


Eli sighed, and hammered his fist on the wood. Repeatedly. And as loudly as possible. “Rob!” he shouted, in feeble hope Rob would do that thing of hearing your own name across a noisy, crowded room, but not convinced he would.


Eli rolled his eyes and turned as the door to number ten flew open.


Chapter 10