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  HOME INTRUDER 2

  BORN THIS WAY

  BY SAM WEST

  Home intruder 2:

  Born This Way

  By Sam West

  Copyright Sam West 2015

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced or used in any way without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews. The characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hazel Brigg’s stretched luxuriously on the sofa, enjoying the rough texture of her boyfriend’s jean-clad thigh pressing into the soles of her bare feet. The smell of pot hung heavy in the air, cloying and sweet. Normally she didn’t much care to be around the stuff, but not today. Today, nothing could dampen her mood.

  A hand with long, slender fingers topped with bright red talons waved in front of her face, offering up a thickly rolled joint.

  “No, ta,” Hazel said, peering down at her best-friend and flatmate, Megan Ashby, who lay on her back on the floor parallel to the sofa.

  The beautiful girl stared up at her through half-closed eyes, smoke partly obscuring her features.

  “You’re such a spoilsport,” Megan pouted. “A little bit of pot won’t kill you.”

  Hazel lifted up her head slightly and raised the bottle of ice cold lager to her lips. “I’m happy with a beer, thanks.”

  She let out a long sigh of satisfaction as the icy bubbles filled her throat. Ryan Cooper, who was sitting upright at her feet, reached down for the joint that Megan had just offered Hazel.

  “You should be celebrating,” he said, “it’s not every day you get offered a free placement for a PHD.”

  “It wasn’t official. Dr Bateman just said he would recommend me.”

  “Yeah, he did. Sweetheart, you’ve got the next four years of your life sewn up, and a career as an English Lit lecturer at the end of it. You’ve just got everything you’ve always wanted handed to you on a plate.”

  Hazel didn’t want to be smug, but hell, her boyfriend was right. It was everything she had ever dreamed of, and more. At last, she truly felt as though she had finally broken free from her old life. The one where her parents had died in a freak road accident a few years ago, leaving her to fend for herself whilst living with her only remaining family – a set of ancient grandparents whom she knew deep down couldn’t care less about her. The only people that really mattered to her were with her in this room, right now.

  “I am celebrating. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. For the first time ever I feel like my life is really beginning, you know?”

  “I thought it began when I let you sample the delights of my body.”

  Hazel smiled, digging the heel of her foot into his thigh.

  “Hey, that hurts!”

  He passed back the joint to Megan’s outstretched hand and grabbed either side of Hazel’s tiny waist encased in the plain white t-shirt. She squealed in protest, trying to squirm away from him on the sofa, but he had her pinned down with his big body.

  “Stop it,” she giggled, even though she didn’t find it funny.

  Being tickled so aggressively always made her feel a little bit nauseous and crampy, not to mention light-headed and giggly.

  “You’re such a sensitive little thing,” he said, when to her relief he ended her torment.

  “I have news too,” Megan said from the floor.

  Hazel scooted into an upright position at the opposite end of the sofa to Ryan. “What is it, sweetie?”

  “I’ve dropped out of uni.”

  Hazel’s heart sank, even if she wasn’t surprised. “Oh, Megan. That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah, well, we can’t all be academically gifted like certain others, can we?”

  Hazel chose to ignore the bitter note that had crept into her friend’s voice. “I just think it’s a shame, that’s all. We’re second year students, we’ve come so far…”

  “And some of us have too far to go,” Megan finished.

  The girl remained on her back on the floor, blowing smoke-rings up at the ceiling through blood-red lips. “I’m just not that way inclined, you know? My agent says he’s got a ton of stuff lined up for me.”

  “What kind of stuff?” Hazel asked warily.

  There was no doubt that Megan was beautiful, but her ample cleavage held her back in her burgeoning modelling career.

  Or not, depending on which way you looked at it. The fact was, offers from catwalks and catalogues were few and far between and offers to get her tits out were plentiful.

  “Just some topless stuff.”

  “Megan! You said that men’s magazine spread you did was a one off.”

  “Oh, come on, will you lighten up? It’s only tits, I’m not spreading ‘em.”

  “Yet.”

  Megan rolled her eyes and sat up, handing the joint to Ryan as she did so who seemed to be listening to their conversation with much interest.

  Too much interest, the little, green-eyed-monster whispered in her mind. I’ve seen the way he looks at her when he thinks I’m not looking…

  Hazel pushed aside the unwelcome thought and concentrated on the matter at hand.

  “I’m nineteen-years-old, I’ve got my whole life in front of me and if I want to get my tits out, so what?” Megan was saying. “You’ve got to capitalise on your strengths, right? And these babies happen to be mine.”

  She cupped her breasts for emphasis and gave them a little jiggle. Ryan laughed, but Hazel remained stony faced.

  If she was perfectly honest with herself, she was more than a little jealous of her figure; if Megan had been in the front of the queue when God was handing out breasts, then she had been at the back. Despite the washboard abs, Megan had the type of figure that jiggled. With her side-parted, light-brown hair that she wore halfway down her back, strong jawline and full, trade-mark red lips, she reminded Hazel of a slightly curvier supermodel from the nineties era. Hazel herself could not look more different from her friend. She was short, pale and skinny with natural black hair cut into a pixie-style crop. Whereas others might describe her features as elfin, Hazel just thought she looked like a weasel.

  Jealousy aside, she also happened to care for her friend very much. Megan was fun-loving, the life and soul of every party, which translated to impulsive and rash. Hazel suspected she dabbled in coke with some of her acquaintances on the modelling scene. There was also little doubt in her mind that Megan had, on occasion, done more than get her tits out on a shoot.

  “Megan’s right,” Ryan said, “live and live, that’s what I say.”

  “I bet you do,” Hazel muttered under her breath, suddenly angry at her boyfriend.

  Why’s he even with me, anyway?

  It was not the first time she had wondered such a thing. He was far too good-looking for the likes of her. Tall, blonde and muscular, he looked like he belonged with a babe like Megan.

  “What’s wrong with you tonight? You got PMT or something?” Ryan said.

  Hazel could feel her good mood evaporating, PHD placement or not.

  “I’m just concerned for my friend’s welfare, that’s all,” she answered primly. “I don’t want to see her get used or hurt or make the worst decision of her life.”

  “Who do you think you are, my mother? God, just chill out, will you? It’s my life, not yours.”

  Hazel opened her mouth and closed it again, at a loss to what to say. She loved her friend, the last thing she wanted was to upset her and come across as an uptight bitch. The doorbell sounded, resonating in the silence that hung over them.

  “I’ll go,” Hazel said, jumping to her feet, figuring that Steve had arrived.

  Although her and Ryan’s plans to set up their two
best-friends suddenly didn’t seem like such a hot idea anymore.

  You worry too much, she thought, as she left the living room and made her way down the hallway of the London, Victorian house. It’s only a couple of cross words, it’ll all be forgotten by the time me and Steve go back in.

  She flung open the door with a smile plastered on her face, expecting to see Steve in his usual beat-up leather jacket and his mass of black curls.

  The smile died on her lips and she felt herself physically recoil in a momentary rush of confusion.

  “Hello, Hazel.”

  “Edward. Hi. What are you doing here?”

  She caught her composure, taking in the sight of Edward Sullivan on her doorstep, dressed head to toe in his customary black. He too was a second year student at London’s Guildhall. Studying photography and film, he always seemed to be filming anything and everything on his smartphone that was permanently grafted to his hand. She couldn’t say that she and Edward were any more than passing acquaintances; they nodded hi to each other in the corridors, but that was about it. In the first year of university they had both lived on-campus, but their friends had always been different.

  “I’m sorry to intrude, I’m actually after Megan. Is she in?”

  Instantly, Hazel was on edge. She didn’t dislike Edward or anything, he was always friendly enough. But why was he here? Was Megan even aware of Edward? Somehow she doubted it, he wasn’t exactly in her league. But then, she reasoned, what guy was? It wasn’t as if Edward was ugly, quite the opposite in fact. Hazel had always secretly found him quite attractive. He seemed to walk the finest line between geeky and cool, and had a languid air about him, a sophisticated edge that belied his mere twenty years. He sort of reminded her of a young Quentin Tarantino, except this guy was tons better looking, in a skinny, dark haired, intense kind of way.

  How did he even know that Megan lived here with her and Ryan? Had Megan given him their address?

  I’ve never seen her hanging out with him.

  “Are you okay?” Edward asked. “You’re looking a bit pale.”

  “I always look a bit pale.”

  She laughed awkwardly at her own lame joke and smiled at him, although the misplaced sense of unease remained.

  “What’s going on out there? Are you losers coming in or not?”

  Megan’s voice drifted to them from down the hallway, swiftly followed by the clatter of her high-heels on the wooden floorboards. Hazel swivelled her head to look at her friend, mainly to gauge her reaction. She didn’t look at all surprised to see him.

  “Wow,” she purred, in her best, sultry voice, “you are keen aren’t you? I said I’d think about it, I didn’t say I’d actually do it.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Edward said breezily. “I figured you’d be more comfortable discussing it at home with your friends around you, so you know I’m not being a sleaze or anything.”

  Hazel silently watched her friend regarding him thoughtfully. After a moment or two, she nodded her head slightly.

  “Okay, fine, you can come in. I’d be interested to hear what Hazel and Ryan think about it.”

  “Thanks.”

  For a second, his eyes locked with hers, and she shivered without knowing why.

  Maybe I just fancy him, or something. I wonder what Ryan would think about that? Probably wouldn’t even notice, seeing as he’s always mooning over bloody Megan...

  For some reason that Hazel did not yet understand, she felt painfully self-conscious with Edward directly behind her as they made their way into the living-room.

  Ryan was still slumped on the sofa, blowing smoke-rings into the air. He sat up straighter when the three of them entered the room, looking a little startled when his gaze settled on Edward. Instantly he regained his composure.

  “Do I know you, mate?” he asked through narrowed eyes.

  What a load of bull, Hazel thought, of course Ryan knows him, they’ve seen each other a ton of times at the student union bar…

  Edward threw him an easy smile and strode over to the sofa, extending his hand. “The name’s Edward Sullivan. And you’re Ryan. We’re both second year, we kinda knock around in similar circles.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re the nerd that films everything.”

  Edward’s smile broadened, but Hazel was sure she detected the tiniest flicker of something in those intense, dark eyes.

  “Yep, that’s me. Which is why I’m here, as it happens. I’m making a film, kind of a personal project. A documentary.”

  “Wow, that’s really interesting.”

  Hazel bridled slightly at her boyfriend’s rudeness. There was no need for it.

  Megan, however, was apparently oblivious. She giggled girlishly, tossing her mane of silky brown hair.

  My God, she’s such a flirt. Anything in trousers, and all that…

  “I think so too,” Edward said. “And I want to use Megan in my project.”

  “I haven’t said yes, yet,” she said.

  “Oh, you will, I just know it,” he said, a look of supreme confidence on his composed face.

  “So?” Ryan injected. “Why are here asking us if you can use Megan for some stupid film you’re working on? We’re not her keepers, she can do what the hell she likes. Why are you here acting like you’re asking for her hand in marriage or something?”

  It suddenly occurred to Hazel that maybe Ryan was jealous. Jealous of the fact that Edward was showing an interest in Megan. In her mind she went over how unkeen he had been to set her up with Steve in the first place.

  “Because it’s just polite,” was Edward’s prim reply. “I like manners. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

  “Are they like a band, or something?” Ryan said in a passable imitation of a breathy bimbo.

  Megan loudly clapped her hands together, effectively silencing the two guys. “So,” she said, in a bright, singsong voice. “What kind of film are you making, Edward? And what do you want with little old me?”

  “It’s a documentary about coming of age, the pain of entering adulthood.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “The pain of entering adulthood? Sounds a bit naff if you ask me. And in case you hadn’t noticed, Megan’s all grown-up.”

  He stared pointedly at Megan’s chest as he said it, causing a little knot of jealousy to twist in Hazel’s stomach.

  “Ryan,” Hazel said softly, throwing him the look.

  “It’s okay, Hazel,” Edward said, shrugging the rucksack off his shoulder so that it dropped to the floorboards with a heavy clunk. “I have a feeling that he’ll come round to my way of thinking.”

  Hazel hadn’t really noticed his rucksack until that point in time. I wonder what he’s got in there? Looks too heavy to be books…

  “Yeah, well, if it’s all the same to you, Edward, I’m going upstairs to work on my Sports Science Essay.”

  “What about Steve?” Hazel asked. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

  “No, he won’t. He texted me when you guys went to the door, says he can’t make it tonight.”

  “Before you go, Ryan,” Edward said, leaning down to open the rucksack at his feet, “I have something I want to show you with regards to my project.”

  “Mate, I already told you, I don’t give a…”

  Ryan never got to finish his sentence.

  “What the…” Megan spluttered, but her words were cut off by the shining blade of the switchblade that was pressed against her jugular.

  Hazel stared in disbelief. It had all happened so fast, one second Edward was rooting around in his rucksack, the next he had lunged for Megan and had pressed a knife to her throat.

  Hazel swayed on her feet and subconsciously clutched her neck in the same spot where the knife dented the skin of Megan’s throat. She felt strange, dreamlike, her brain having difficulty in processing what her eyes were seeing. The ringing in her ears reached a crescendo with her rising panic, and she had to force herself to concentrate to hear what Edward was saying.

&n
bsp; “….and kick them towards me.”

  Hazel looked at him blankly. She could feel her mouth was hanging open and the skin on her face felt numb.

  Now! Both of you!” Edward barked. “Take out your mobiles and kick them towards me or I will slit this silly slag’s throat.”

  Ryan, wide eyed and with all the colour drained from his usually perma-tanned face, went to stand up. At the same time, he reached into the back-pocket of his jeans.

  “Stay sitting on the sofa,” Edward barked. “You too, Hazel. Give me your phone then go and join your boyfriend.”

  “I don’t have my phone on me,” she said, the words feeling clumsy in her parched mouth.

  Ryan did as he was told, kicking his mobile over to Edward. Without breaking eye-contact with Hazel, he bent over, picked it up and pocketed it. His intense, dark gaze bored into her, making her shiver.

  “Where is it, then?” he asked coolly.

  “Upstairs, I think, still in my book bag.”

  “There’s only one way to know for sure. Take off all your clothes and kick them over to me.”

  Hazel heard the words and she recognised the language as English, but they made no sense whatsoever in her brain.

  “Leave us alone,” Ryan piped up from the sofa.

  “Shut-up, lover boy, I do hope that you and I won’t experience any creative differences.”

  Megan’s eyes bulged and glistened with tears. Hazel could only stare at her stupidly, transfixed by the way the knife dented her skin.

  If he pushes the knife even a fraction harder he’ll slit her throat…

  “Now, Hazel,” Edward said in the calmest of voices. “You look a trifle shocked, so we’ll forget the removal of your clothes for the moment. I want you come over here and open the little front pocket of my rucksack. In it you will find a roll of electrical tape. I would like you to take out said electrical tape, and use it to secure your boyfriend in place on the sofa. If either you or Ryan try anything funny, then I promise that Megan here will pay the price.”

  Hazel’s gazed flitted nervously over to Ryan.

  Why the hell is he just sitting there?