Bad Grace: A Billionaire Romance Romantic Suspense (The Filth Monger Book 2)

by Chant, Annabel

  He shrugged. ‘The internet, then,’ he said. ‘Even your precious Old Boys’ Network can’t touch that. She’ll be an international star, by this time tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s not in your interest to do that,’ I said, coolly. ‘That’s your leverage gone, and any chance whatsoever of making a quick buck. How will you protect yourself, when Giles Flint comes after you?’

  ‘He’s a fucking old fogey.’ Rick gave an uncertain laugh. ‘What’s he gonna do?’

  ‘He’s in the Home Office,’ I said. ‘They do what they please. Don’t you get it? I’m a fucking pussycat compared to Giles Flint.’

  ‘Have you told him?’

  I could tell I’d rattled him. ‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘I wanted to deal with this thing in-house.’

  ‘Good.’ Rick put out his fag and drained his glass. ‘Let’s deal.’

  ‘Have you got the tape?’

  ‘Uh-huh. It’s good and safe.’ He glanced around him nervously. I wondered if it had only just occurred to him that he had to actually get back out of the club, after the trade.

  Apparently, he’d factored that into his plans.

  ‘Good and safe?’ I said. I didn’t like the sound of it, and I couldn’t stop myself flicking my glass with my thumbnail – a sign of anxiety I couldn’t suppress.

  ‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘You didn’t think I’d bring it with me, did you? For fuck’s sake, I’m not that stupid. But I’ll deliver it, as soon as I get the money. You have my word.’

  ‘Your word?’ I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Your word is good for nothing. You haven’t an ounce of loyalty or honour. How am I supposed to take you at your word?’

  ‘You’d be surprised how loyal I can be.’ He turned to face me. ‘To people who are loyal to me. Now...’ He held out his hand. ‘The money, please.’

  I hesitated. Even now, I wasn’t sure how to play this. Should I come clean, or…?

  ‘We’ll arrange another rendezvous,’ I said. At least this way, I could stall for time. ‘Somewhere neutral. We’ll trade then. The tape for the money.’

  His whole face crumpled and, for a moment, I thought he might cry, but then he turned on his heel. ‘You stupid fuck,’ he said and made a dash for the exit.

  I followed him, nearly falling over a slave, crawling along the floor next to his Master. Respect for such behaviours was paramount in the club, and I had to stop and apologise. It hardly mattered. By the time I reached the doors, Security had him pinned against the wall, and Alex was almost upon him. I was glad I’d reached him first. I didn’t want another scene between them. Alex was supposed to keep his composure as Dungeon Master. It was essential for the confidence of the guests. If he couldn’t keep his cool, he wouldn’t be trusted to oversee scenes, much less carry out demonstrations.

  As it was, I was able to elbow him out of the way. ‘All right, boys,’ I said. ‘It’s fine. We’ve concluded our business. Let him go.’

  The doormen stepped back, looking pissed off. They were obviously hoping to give him a good kick-in outside, but I was still hopeful things could be resolved in a manner more…helpful…to everyone involved.

  I went out through the guest doors, into the alley behind the hotel. As I walked up the slope to ground level, I looked up and down. It was hard to see in the dark, but it seemed that Rick hadn’t hung around. The alley was deserted.

  Alex came up the slope behind me. ‘Let me in on this one, Sir,’ he said. ‘Please.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I began. ‘The club…’

  ‘This is more important,’ he said. ‘Ronnie’ll take care of it.’

  ‘I didn’t even see her,’ I said, taken aback. It wasn’t like Ronnie to give me a wide berth. She was altogether too fond of staking her claim over me, especially at Dominion. It was one of the reasons I rarely went there. ‘Does she know she’s expected to?’

  ‘I briefed her just now,’ he said. ‘She’s cool.’

  I shrugged. ‘Okay. The more, the merrier, I suppose. Just don’t go blundering in, all right?’

  ‘Sir,’ he said, and we walked up the alley together, and out into the night-time streets of London, to where Stephens was waiting for us in the car.

  Sixteen

  Him

  Matt picked up as soon as I called him.

  ‘He’s heading towards Leicester Square,’ he said. It was hard to make out the words, against the thrum of one of London’s busiest and noisiest places.

  ‘Leicester Square,’ I said, ducking down into the car. ‘He would be.’ The chances of keeping up with him there were slim, if not non-existent. It was the obvious direction to go, being only a stone’s throw from the Dominion hotel.

  Alex was already inside and, as soon as I slammed my door, Stephens put his foot down, pulling away from the kerb with a spin of tyres.

  ‘How’re we doing, Matt?’ I said.

  His voice was practically inaudible, what with him panting and the sound of the traffic both from my end and his, but I managed to catch; ‘Just passing…Empire, Sir…fucking première finishing…’

  I didn’t catch the last words, but I hardly needed to. If there were a film première on, it’d be even more packed than usual, and I didn’t like the direction he was heading in, either. It was a direct route to the nearest Tube station.

  ‘Don’t let him see you,’ I said. ‘We’ll be right there. As close to the Empire as you can, Stephens, please.’

  The chances of finding either of them were pretty much non-existent. I hoped Matt was going to be able to handle it on his own. It wasn’t like he needed to do much – just keep him in sight and find out where he was staying. He hadn’t been home since the whole affair blew up, much to Sandy’s disgust. If he wanted to lose his family, he was going the right way about it, the fucking idiot.

  I took the time to look at my phone. There was a message – again from a number I didn’t recognise. It couldn’t be Felicity – thank fuck – because I’d saved her number, so could it be…? My fingers fumbled in my anxiety and, by the time I got it open, I was almost holding my breath.

  It was from her.

  I could hardly believe it. I hadn’t heard a thing from her since the night I kissed her on the Embankment at Chelsea. Not since, like a moron, I gave her that damned card.

  There was no greeting, not even a snarky; ‘Hello, “Filth Monger”’, just a cry for help:

  It’s Grace Anderton. You said to get in touch if I needed to. Well, here I am, getting in touch.

  I reread it a couple of times, not sure what to make of it. I hoped it meant she wanted to see me again, but I suspected it didn’t. Not in the way I wanted, at least. I sighed. Just as well, probably, all considered – for her, at least. Not so much for me. I actually thought I might fall in love with her, given the chance. Something I’d never managed, since Aimee. Hell, I was halfway there already, and now I’d been charged with assaulting a woman. She’d love that, I was sure. Ah well, that was my fucking life all over. I’d text her back - tell her I’d be in touch – but I’d have to do it later. I couldn’t spare the time now – as much as I wanted to.

  I called Matt again.

  ‘I’m still at the Empire, Sir. He’s hiding amongst the tourists and having a look around,’ he said. ‘He’s checking he’s not being followed.’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘Keep your head down. We’re on our way.’

  We were still in Coventry Street when the traffic began to back up. By the time we hit Swiss Court, it was at a standstill. It was gone ten at night, but this was the heart of tourist London, and time meant nothing.

  ‘He’s on the move, Sir.’ Matt’s voice sounded urgent.

  ‘Pull over,’ I said.

  Stephens pulled up sharply, ignoring the blare of horns, and we swung out of the car and headed through the hordes lining the streets, towards the Empire. When we reached it, the crowds were thick with tourists and teenage girls, camera phones flashing at whoever was coming back out along the red carpet. It was unlikely to be any
one interesting – those would be at the after-film party, but anyone on a red carpet was fair game to the camera-happy multitudes.

  I looked around, my heart racing, but there was no sign of Rick or Matt.

  I put my phone to my ear.

  Matt sounded breathless, probably more from worry than from running, given their pit-stop at the Empire. ‘He’s heading to the Tube, Sir,’ he said.

  Tell me something I don’t know. It was almost too obvious. What better way to disappear from the streets of London?

  ‘We’re almost there,’ I lied. ‘Good work, Matt. Keep on his tail.’

  We were nowhere near the Tube. By the time I could see the Underground sign, I was sure we’d missed them, and that would be that. The chances of Matt getting a signal down there was zero.

  ‘There, Sir!’ said Alex, urgently. ‘Going down the steps.’

  I saw him straight away, walking in a cluster of tourists, down the steps and under the Charing Cross Road. Unbelievable. He was practically ambling. He actually seemed to think he’d got away with it. No wonder we’d managed to get there in time.

  We kept our heads down and followed him into the Tube.

  As we went down the steps, someone touched my elbow. ‘Sir,’ he said.

  It was Matt.

  ‘Nice work,’ I said. ‘That was almost too easy. Let’s hope it carries on that way.’

  Famous last words.

  We carried on down the steps. Our pace was frustratingly slow, but we had to make sure he didn’t see us. As the steps opened out into the ticket hall, I saw him look around him again, before deciding where to go.

  ‘He’s heading for the Northern Line,’ I said. ‘Come on.’

  As we reached the barriers, Alex and Matt got out their Oyster cards and zipped them through the machine.

  Damn. I didn’t have an Oyster card – I’d never needed one, what with my fleet of cars and Stephens to drive me whenever I needed him. I took a look around me, before jumping over the barrier.

  ‘Oi!’ I heard someone yell from behind me, but I paid no heed and followed the others in the direction of the Northern line.

  For a moment, I thought we’d lost him, but then Matt nudged me. ‘He’s going South, Sir. Come on.’

  We headed down the seemingly interminable escalator, right into the bowels of the City. I loosened the collar of my shirt and blew up onto my forehead. I was starting to get twitchy already. It was the whole enclosed space thing again. I couldn’t easily get out if something happened down here, and the thought made my throat constrict, and the sweat begin to stand out on my brow. It didn’t help I knew that, if Rick were to look up now, there was nowhere we could hide and he’d be bound to spot us.

  I didn’t notice him turn round, though, let alone look back up the escalator and, when we finally got off, I wiped my brow and turned to the others.

  ‘We’ll have to stay this end. He’s moving further up the platform – we can’t risk him seeing us.’

  Matt and Alex didn’t speak. They merely nodded in affirmation and, when the train pulled in a minute or two later, we shuffled into one of the back carriages.

  As the train pulled away, Matt turned to me. ‘How are we going to know when he gets off, Sir?’ he said.

  I confess I hadn’t given it a thought. I blame the fact that I was in what was essentially a tin can, hurtling through tight tunnels under a seething city - I couldn’t focus. But it could equally have just been an oversight. I seemed to be making a habit of them, these days.

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t know.’

  Alex ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair. ‘We’ll have to split up – one get off at each station and take a chance.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘That’s perfect. You get off next stop, Matt, at uh…’

  ‘Charing Cross, Sir,’ Matt supplied.

  ‘Yes, Charing Cross,’ I said. I couldn’t see Rick getting off at the very next stop, and Matt had done enough chasing for one night. ‘If he doesn’t get off, be ready to hail a cab in case we need you.’

  ‘Very good, Sir.’

  ‘What’s the next stop?’ I said, looking up at the map above the window. I flushed slightly – partly because I felt stifled, pressed up against people I didn’t even know, but mainly because I was acutely aware of my ignorance. I didn’t have even the most basic knowledge of the London Underground but, then, I wasn’t your average Londoner.

  ‘Embankment, Sir,’ said Alex, pointing it out.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’ll get off there.’ From the map, it looked like Embankment was a bigger station…busier. There was more chance he’d get off there or, at least, change trains. ‘Alex…you’ll get off at…uh…Waterloo.’

  The train pulled into Charing Cross, and Matt tipped me a small salute. ‘See you, Sir,’ he said, his jaw clenched tight as he headed off the train. I saw him weaving between people, heading towards the exit, then holing back, in a recess, his eyes roaming the sea of passengers.

  I didn’t see Rick and, as the train pulled away, I turned to Alex.

  ‘I don’t think he got off,’ I said.

  ‘Sir,’ said Alex. ‘What if he doesn’t get off at any of them, Sir?’

  ‘Then,’ I said. ‘We’re fucked.’

  Seventeen

  Him

  The wait till we reached Embankment felt interminable. Half the reason I’d said I’d get off there was because I didn’t think I could take much longer on the Tube. The other half was because I did have a gut feeling that Embankment was the station, and I wanted to deal with this myself. Added to which, Alex was no spring chicken, and I didn’t want him chasing around London all night.

  As the train drew in, I felt myself relax slightly, knowing I might be back in the open air soon. I nodded to Alex, then dipped my head and waited a few seconds, before moving out onto the platform.

  The surge of passengers headed forward slightly, more in the direction of the front of the train – the exit was obviously in a different place here. I stooped a little, wishing for a brief moment I wasn’t so tall.

  As I allowed myself to be pushed along towards the exit, I felt a tap on my arm. I looked round. It was Alex. ‘He got off here, Sir – I saw him. He’s just up ahead.’

  I felt irritated for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Good work. I haven’t spotted him yet.’

  ‘He’s there, Sir,’ said Alex, indicating ahead and a little to the right. ‘See?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Well, at least we can split up again, if need be.’

  There was no need, though. Rick headed up and out, through the ticket hall, and into the quieter streets of Westminster. He crossed the road and began heading towards the river. We followed at a safe distance, keeping enough people between us to cover our presence, while staying close enough to avoid losing him.

  ‘If we have to split up now, Sir,’ said Alex. ‘Just give me the nod.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, although I didn’t see why we’d need to. It was pretty easy, following him, to be honest. He seemed to have no idea we were there.

  He crossed a few more roads, until he was on the Embankment itself, walking along next to the river, heading East towards the Golden Jubilee Bridge. It was harder, here, for us to avoid being seen.

  ‘I think we should split up,’ said Alex. ‘We look too obvious, together.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll go ahead – you keep to my rear.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Alex. ‘Could I go first? I don’t know if I can handle too much running.’ He ran his hand through his hair again. ‘I’ll keep a low profile – pretend to be on my phone or something.’

  He did look fucked. The strands of his hair were damp and clinging to his forehead. I nodded briefly and fell back until I was about twenty yards behind him. We carried on like this for a few minutes; Alex walking in front, head bowed, phone at his ear; me bringing up the rear. I could barely see Rick, with the way the river curved, and to be honest I was almost glad.

/>   Something didn’t feel right. Embankment was a huge station. Rick could’ve gone in any direction from there. If he’d stayed on the Underground, we’d probably have lost him eventually, even without him realising we were following him. Yet, here we were, just the three of us, sauntering along the Embankment, as if we didn’t have a care in the world.

  I almost laughed at the irony. I’d walked along the Embankment – not here, but at Chelsea – only a few days ago with Grace. For those few minutes, I actually had felt as if hadn’t a care in the world. Not now, though. Fucking Rick. His whole attitude had really got under my skin, tonight. Now, here we were, at least an hour later, playing some fucked-up version of follow the leader, and still no closer to getting back the tape.

  I glanced at my watch. It was getting late – nearly eleven – and the passers-by had dwindled to the odd group of revellers and the occasional wino. I wondered how much longer we could get away with this, without Rick cottoning onto us. At that moment, a text came in.

  It was from Alex.

  He’s got a package out of his coat. I think it’s the tape.

  I heaved an impatient sigh and texted back.

  Are you saying no one frisked him?

  It was barely a few seconds before the reply came:

  Apparently not.

  I pushed my hair back in frustration. What the fuck were they doing, then, when he left? They’d had him pinned against the wall. Surely they’d thought to check his pockets, at least?

  I could see Rick now. He was standing, looking out over the river, something in his hand. It could’ve been the tape, it could’ve been his phone. I had no way of knowing, from this distance.

  Alex turned and looked at me. I shrugged. What to fucking do? Should I let him carry on, and find out where he was hiding out, or should we risk it and try to get the tape back now? I stopped for a moment, to gather my thoughts. A moment too long…