Discovering Dalton (Manchester Menage Collection #2) (27 page)

Chapter
29

L
iam rode faster than the first time he took Dalton out, but now he seemed more secure and confident riding behind him on his bike. They enjoyed the breeze from the cool air rushing past and the open road ahead. The twists and turns meant he had to concentrate more, but then that was the fun of being on a bike to Liam.

Dalton was pressed up against him, one hand on his thigh, the other on his hip and Liam enjoyed the intimate moment. Liam never really had anyone ride pillion before. He and Troy liked their own bikes, and if Liam was honest, riding behind someone on a bike didn’t really appeal to him. It freaked him out a bit and he was always holding back shouting over their shoulder to do this differently, or to give them some other advice which he shouldn’t. He had to be the one up front, and that went for most things in life.

They’d been on the road for about half an hour when Liam saw the pub coming into view. It was set off the main roads and was one of those old stone built things which only people who were willing to drive could reach. Liam and Troy found it on one of their rides, and the food was basic pub grub, pie and chips, homemade roast dinners, but the place had that homey feel to it and a roaring fire with ales neither had heard of before.

Liam wouldn’t be drinking, and he didn’t like Dalton having one either, not when they had no car seats for him to recline in. It wasn’t an easy job having a pillion rider, and one who was drunk was a no go for Liam. Food and a good chat by the fire was what Liam was looking forward to.

As he parked up, Dalton stood from the bike, removing his helmet and smiling like a child at Liam. “That was so much fun.”

Liam took off his own helmet and hung it on the handlebars, a smirk on his lips. “You should take lessons. You could come ride with me and T anytime.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time.”

Liam shook his head, swinging his long leg over the bike and taking the helmet from Dalton. “You wouldn’t. Having you with me isn’t a bad thing, Dee.”

“Maybe your brother would think otherwise.” Dalton stood watching him fiddle with the bike, hands in pockets, rocking slightly on his heels.

“I don’t know why you think he wouldn’t.”

“Just a feeling I get from you when you talk about him.”

“I don’t really talk about him that much.”

“That’s what I mean.”

Liam glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “A policeman’s intuition, huh?”

“Call it what you will, but I know you hide a lot where he's concerned, though I can't guess why.”

He’d talked about Troy, keeping his name to just T because he wanted to keep what they had separate for now, and the chance they could run into each other at Aspire had bugged him, but then Troy hadn't been anywhere near the place for weeks now. Maybe in those talks it had come across how close they were, but Liam hadn't thought he’d even mentioned Troy that much for Dalton to have a strong feeling about it. “You're just narked because you feel there's something I'm hiding when I'm not. The only thing I'm not really saying is much at all and that’s because I'm not a chatty guy. Besides, you and I have enough to talk about without my life. Yours is keeping us busy.”

Dalton frowned a little, looking over at the fields across the road and becoming a little stiffer in his stance. “I'm interested in you and your life outside of the four walls of Aspire, but that appears to be the only thing you really seem to be able to be honest with me about.”

“I don’t lie, Dee.”

“No, you don’t say anything at all.  Apart from a few clues you’ve dropped and knowing about your brother, you're pretty tight lipped.”

Liam pulled open the door to the pub and watched Dalton walk in. “What would you like, a complete history of me up until now?” Liam pinched his arse discreetly and got a startled jump from him. “I don’t mind sharing, it’s not a thing I do, but like most things with you, you make me break most of my rules.”

Dalton led them to the bar, leaning on it as they shared a softer look.

The landlady walked to them, the same one who had always served here when Liam came, and she recognised him, tying her greying long hair behind her neck and glancing over Dalton, beaming brighter. “Evening, gentlemen.” She met Liam’s gaze and smiled more. “Been a while since you came round here, lad. Where’s the other bit of trouble tonight?” She placed her hands on her hips, portly figure filling the flowery dress she wore.

“At work. This is my friend Dalton.”

Dalton chuckled, then leaned over the bar and kissed the landlady on the cheek. “Hi, Aunty Mary.”

She grabbed his face and just looked at Dalton while Liam fell silent. “By heck, lad, you look more like your mam every time I set my eyes on you. I didn’t think I'd see you so soon after… Well, you don’t get up here that often with the job keeping you busy all the hours God sends.” She cast her gaze to Liam and smiled. “This your friend then?”

“He said so, so it must be true.” Dalton chuckled as he looked back to Liam.

“You never said your aunt ran this place.”

“I didn’t know where we were coming. It wasn’t until we pulled up I noticed where we were.” Dalton to his aunt and then waved his hand between them. “You’ve met before, but to be polite, Mary, this is, Liam, Liam this is my mam’s sister, Mary. Liam runs the gym where I've been going. You asked at the funeral how I got so slim, well, he’s the reason why.”

“Oooo.” His aunt leaned over the bar and appraised Liam more closely. “I knew you were a fan of the gym looking like you do, but running one, huh? Is it your own place?”

“Yeah, well, it is now my uncle passed it down to me.” Liam took a seat at the bar and she looked at his arms and chest a little too long. “And, Dalton did all the hard work. I shouted at him a lot and pissed him off, but it was all down to him.” Liam and Dalton smirked and he laid his hand discreetly on his thigh as he looked back to his aunt. “We’re in the search of food and a good drink. Non-alcoholic. I'm on the bike and this one’s sitting behind me on it.”

She raised her brows and gave a disapproving look at Dalton. “Bikes, eh. Well, then you best be keeping your speed under control. This one’s not used to riding them death traps.”

“I'm careful. I promise. I look out for him.” Liam gave her a wink and got a curt smile back.

“Anyway, I’ve got a beef roast and Yorkshire puddings with onion gravy which should sort you out. There’s a few non-alcoholic beers which sells okay. I’ll grab a couple. You go sit down next to the fire and put your feet up. You can leave those helmets round the back of the bar in the hallway. There’s only me and the staff who go round there, so they’ll be out of harm’s way. I won't be long.” She grinned widely at Dalton, running her hand over his short shaven hair before kissing him again. “It’s right grand to see you here again. I’m gonna call your Uncle Tom to get his arse in here to see you before the food arrives. He was right worried about you at the wake. It’ll set his mind at rest to see a smile on this handsome face of yours.”

Dalton and Liam watched her walk off, Liam’s grip on his thigh turning into a comforting rub. He turned to Liam, glancing at his hand on his thigh and then back into his eyes. Liam waited for some kind of shake of the leg, or ‘get off me’ sort of thing, but all he did was rest his warm hand on top of Liam’s for a few short moments before he stood. “There’s a nice table near the hearth which I like.”

“Sounds good. I've only ever come up here in late autumn, making the most out of the bike before the weather turns. We always stop off here on the way back home for some food and warmth before we climb back on the bikes.” They took a small table for two a few tables away from the log fire, the warmth still a bit too much in the summer months, but as Manchester had seen what could be that last of the summer, it was okay. “So, your aunt, huh?”

“Yeah, we don’t see much of each other. Weddings, funerals.” Dalton smirked, sad eyes leaving Liam’s. “Neither my mum, or aunt, could drive, and with them both living a good forty minutes away and having busy home lives, they kind of never got together as much as they liked. They’ve always owned this place though, and I remember coming up here since I was a kid. Good memories.” Dalton paused, meeting Liam’s gaze. “Her son, Adam, he rode bikes. Died in a huge crash not too far from here when he was twenty three. The bend we took three corners down, the one where there’s shit loads of road markings, yeah, they weren’t there when it happened.”

“That explains the hatred of bikes I felt from her.” Liam tapped his fingers on the table. “I can't say I don’t know of people who’ve died on them, I won't lie and say it’s not dangerous, but how you ride them counts for a lot.”

Dalton nodded in agreement, both of them falling silent as they saw his aunt appearing with their drinks being followed by what looked to be her husband, a rather large man who stood as tall as Liam but must have weighed four times as much. He obviously liked his grub.

Dalton rose from the table, holding out his hand and leaning in for a hug at the same time. “Hi, Uncle Tom.”

“Alright, Dalton.” He smiled big and wide just like his size, and Liam nodded at him when he caught his gaze. “Fancy you two knowing each other, eh. He comes in here with his mate, the one with that haircut and the tattoos.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Liam grinned. “He’ll be jealous I came without him. He always talks about your pies.”

“You bring him up here next time and Dalton too. Can’t see enough of family these days.” His uncle swept Dalton back into a big hug, both laughing. “Let me sit down, my feet are killing me.”

Liam watched his heavy frame sit on a chair which struggled to hold him, as Dalton took his seat again, then they chatted until their food came. He stood up, huffing and puffing and smiling at Dalton.

“Best thing you did was lose that weight. You don’t want to end up like me, do you?” He bellowed a great laugh out, patting his stomach as it jiggled about. Liam chuckled and Dalton kicked him under the table.

“You’ve always been big, Tom, and it’s not held you back.”

“Eh, maybe not, but in the bedroom department, it’s caused a few issues.” He laughed loudly again as Dalton hid his face in his hands. “You keep it up. Enjoy your food, lads.”

Liam was snorting into his beer bottle when Dalton raised his head. “I gotta agree, sex with that much weight’s going to be difficult.”

“I do not need to imagine my uncle having sex, thanks all the same.”

Liam leaned down and sniffed his beef and gravy. “Nice as usual. I can't say I blame him for getting so big with food like this around him all the time. Your aunt knows how to cook.”

“Oh yeah, she’s amazing, always has been. My mum was the same, loved to cook.”

“As a kid, I got fed shit. Fast food all the time, mainly chips with chips.” He shook his head, a smirk on his lips as he cut up his beef. “My birth mum, if you can call her that, she didn’t even have an oven in the house. Sold it when she needed some cash. We ate from the local chippy most nights. I got big.”

Liam slid his gaze to Dalton’s, seeing him waiting for the next bit, no hint of amusement on his face like Liam expected. “I was really chubby, never did nothing exercise-wise. Never left the house except to walk to the chip shop or to school. School dinners were just as bad, chips and pizza, nothing on there like this. I never knew food like this existed till I moved into Alice and Terry’s. She cooked. Real food.”

Liam hovered his knife over his food as he thought back to the very first meal he had in their house. Troy was taken in on the same day, and there they sat, glaring at each other over a pile of sausage and mash. It was the food and their hungry stomachs which stopped an argument from happening. “She was one of the good ones.”

“It takes a special type of person to open their homes and hearts to kids in need.”

“I thank the big man in the sky for meeting her. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I hadn't. She and her husband, they saved both me and T. You know what the council estates are like round here. The rough ones where no one works and they’re all on drugs, no kids go to school. It’s all gangs and police raids happening every night.”

Dalton nodded as Liam took a bite of his food. “Which one did you grow up in?”

Liam sighed, knowing Dalton would know the place and judge him for coming from such a rough estate. “Moss Side. Hulme Crescents.”

Dalton lifted his head abruptly and met his eyes. “The Crescents?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Liam lowered his gaze to the plate of food and sighed. The Hulme was a selection of high rise flats built in the 1970s and supposed to be the alternative to the slums the working class of Manchester were living in at the time, and probably in the 70s, they were awesome, but years of people abusing them and the council not putting any money into them, well, they became the slums. Liam remembered them being cold and stinking of damp. Nothing ever worked and no one came to fix anything when it was reported.

It was the place all the unwanted members of society went and if you couldn’t get a house anywhere else on benefits, then you got one there. It was the dumping ground for Manchester’s poorest people, and the most anti-social. The police stopped coming because they were called so often and the people were left to fend for themselves.

His block was full of women like his mam, high on drugs, selling themselves to pay for more when the cash ran out. That’s probably how Liam was conceived, one of her paying clients who didn’t wear a condom and he turned up nine months down the line. He never found out who the sperm donor was, and that was more than likely because his mam didn’t even know their name.