Still, Tyrell’s warning had obviously done the trick. The bloke wasn’t so cocky now. Instead he had been rendered silent. Standing there at the bar, with his chest puffed out, he looked like a deranged pigeon on steroids.
In the three years that Misty had worked the club, she had dealt with some of London’s most notorious faces. Joshua Harper being right at the top. This bloke was nothing in comparison – just some cocky little wide boy – and going on his actions already tonight he wasn’t going to last five minutes around here.
Unable to help herself, Misty couldn’t resist one last comment. ‘Here. A peace offering.’ Banging down a fresh glass of tap water on the bar in front of him, Misty didn’t bother to hide her smug smile. ‘And that’s the only thing you are getting from me tonight.’
Spotting Saskia on her break, Misty strode to the other end of the bar.
‘You all right, Saskia?’ Misty asked, glad of a distraction. She’d been wondering how Saskia had been getting on. She’d been meaning to keep an eye on her. Make sure the girl was okay. But the place had been so busy tonight that she hadn’t had a minute to herself.
‘My feet are killing me. Is there some kind of trick I should know about how to walk about in heels this high? Kicking off her six-inch clear plastic heels, Saskia sat down on the stool.
‘Sorry lovey, what was that?’ Misty asked, distracted – her eyes on Aaron at the other end of the bar.
The man stood glaring back at her.
‘Is that bloke over there giving you trouble?’ Saskia asked.
‘He’s harmless,’ Misty spat. ‘Just fancies himself. Fuck knows why though? I mean, let’s face it, if sex appeal was dynamite the bloke wouldn’t have enough to blow the cobwebs off his own balls would he!’ Saskia couldn’t help but laugh. Misty did too.
For Aaron Miller, the cackling sound that ripped through him was the final insult. What was it with people in this place cunting him off? Charging down the end of the bar, Aaron Miller finally lost it.
The first thing Misty felt was the burning sensation as Aaron Miller grabbed a fistful of her hair, ripping her hair extensions out in one fell swoop as he slammed the unsuspecting girl face down. Hard. Whacking her head off the top of the bar.
The attack happened so fast. Misty didn’t know what hit her. Literally.
‘What the fuck?’ Aware she was screeching, Saskia panicked, hitting the man hard with the back of her fist. ‘Get off of her—’
‘You fucking cunt. Think you’re so much better than me do you?’ The man was on Misty now, smashing the girl’s face repeatedly off the bar; the skin above her eyebrow splitting open on impact.
Seeing the blood, Saskia screamed for Tyrell. Then, pulling at Aaron’s arms, she tried to wrench the man off of Misty, but he wouldn’t budge. He was like a man possessed. Pushing Misty’s face into the wood, his arm was locked like steel, refusing to let go.
Saskia was on him then. Jumping on his back, she clawed at Aaron’s face, gouging at his skin as she dug her newly applied nail extensions deep into his flesh. Anything to get him to loosen his grip.
It worked.
In agony, Aaron let Misty go. His attention now on the deranged bitch that had clung onto his back, tearing strips off his face with her claws.
‘You two-bit fucking whore!’
The girl wouldn’t stop. His face was cut to pieces now, stinging. Swinging his elbow back he caught Saskia’s cheek, whacking her with the full force of his strength, and she fell down on the floor onto her knees – in a heap.
In seconds, Aaron was down there too, lying next to her; his body pinned to the floor – squashed – underneath the seventeen stone mass of Tyrell Jones.
‘Get the fuck off of me,’ Aaron shouted.
The bloke was crushing him, dragging his arms up behind him, yanking them so far back Aaron thought the cunt was going to snap them off.
‘That’s enough, Tyrell. Get him back up on his feet.’
It was Joshua Harper: standing over them, sounding thoroughly pissed off. Now they’d know who they’d been messing with, Aaron thought to himself as he stood up, shrugging himself free of Tyrell’s grip now.
‘What the fuck is going on here?’ Joshua stared as Saskia got up from the floor.
The girl looked a mess. Holding her face, Joshua could see that she’d taken a whack.
Misty looked worse. Her hair was all over the place, black mascara smeared down her cheeks. Visibly shaken up as she pressed a napkin to the large gash above her eye, she tried to stem the blood that was trickling down her face.
‘This fucking no-mark hit Misty.’ Kissing his teeth, Tyrell was doing all he could to keep his cool. He despised men who hit women. Gutless pieces of shit; they needed to be taught a lesson by a real man.
‘Is that so?’ Narrowing his eyes at Aaron, Joshua glared. ‘Has this girl been causing you problems, Aaron?’
‘Yeah, Josh, she was mugging me off. Winding me up… ’
Joshua nodded as Aaron visibly relaxed. He knew once he explained things properly that Joshua would understand. These girls were nothing more than slappers. Fit for one purpose only, and this one had been way out of line.
‘She was cunting me off, disrespecting me… ’
Seeing Vincent standing at Joshua’s side now, Aaron was back to his cocky self.
The club had come to a standstill. The music had stopped. Everyone’s eyes were on him. This was his time to shine, to show everyone that he would not be made a mug of.
‘I just lost it. She pushed me too far.’
Aware he had everyone in the club’s complete undivided attention now Aaron spoke with conviction.
‘So you took it upon yourself to teach one of MY girls a lesson by attacking her?’
‘Sorry?’ Aaron frowned then. Joshua’s sudden change in tone confusing him.
His brain fogged by alcohol and cocaine, he realised he’d read this all wrong.
Joshua wasn’t looking at him with understanding; he was looking at him like he was something he’d just trodden in. Scowling.
Backtracking now, Aaron tried to talk his way out of the hole he’d just dug himself.
‘She was cunting me off, Joshua… ’ Sobering up now, Aaron realised that he had royally fucked up.
Looking to Vincent, the younger of his cousins, Aaron hoped that he’d back him up. Another oversight.
Shaking his head, Vincent looked at Aaron with nothing but contempt. Aaron had made himself look like a class A cunt tonight and if he thought he was going to bail him out then he had another think coming.
Vincent should have known that something like this would happen. His cousin had always been a bell-end. The bloke had begged him for an in for months and stupidly, against his better judgement, Vincent had finally given in. He’d been the one to persuade Joshua to give the kid a chance.
They were family, after all. If you couldn’t trust family, who could you trust?
He’d thought that by Aaron working alongside them both the kid would knuckle down, learn a bit of integrity, but he’d been wrong. Aaron was too much of a loose cannon. A fucking wide boy who had no respect for anyone. Tonight had proved that.
‘Vincent, please, cuz! I didn’t mean it… ’ Begging now, his voice full of desperation.
He flinched at being called ‘cuz’; Vincent was embarrassed to even be associated with the useless prick, let alone related. Joshua had given Aaron a chance, and Aaron in return had just royally cunted him off in front of the entire firm.
He was on his own now. Vincent wouldn’t be able to help him.
‘We’re going to have to deal with this,’ Joshua was speaking to Vincent now. ‘Family or not… ’ Vincent nodded.
It went without saying.
‘Do what you have to, bruv. I’ll take the girls to A & E. Get them checked over.’
‘I’ll take great pleasure in dealing with this piece of shit, boss,’ Tyrell sneered, relishing the thought of inflicting some retribution on the piece of s
hit in front of him.
He took it as his personal responsibility to look after each and every one of the girls that worked here. This was his watch, and this little shit had overstepped the mark, big time.
Watching the exchange between the three men, Aaron shook his head, confused. He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was the girl.
‘What about her? She was laughing at me… ’ His excuses sounded suddenly pathetic even to his own ears.
Joshua shook his head. Aaron Miller really didn’t know when to shut up.
‘Get this fucking cunt out the back – now,’ Joshua ordered.
Tyrell did as he was told.
Vincent stood watching as Aaron, already defeated, let Tyrell drag him through the club without so much as a struggle. As if he’d already accepted his fate.
Cousin or no cousin, Aaron Miller was about to be taught the most brutal lesson of his life.
21
‘Crash team! Her vital signs are fluctuating!’
The words were shouted with urgency, echoing around the tiny hospital room as Lena stared in horror – a team of specialists rushing into the room.
There were so many people. Registrars, consultants, doctors. It was hard to tell who was who. Standing haplessly in the corner as chaos erupted all around her Lena leant her back against the wall, as if without its support she would collapse.
Roza was sick. Really sick.
Clasping her hands tightly together to stop them from trembling it felt like the crisp white walls were closing in on her. Her worst nightmare was unfolding before her very eyes.
She felt suddenly claustrophobic, the already cramped room now full of extra equipment. A crash trolley, monitors. Tubes, alarms, cables. The room filled with a blur of noise. People shouting out instructions, machines bleeping. It was mayhem.
Korab stood beside her, his head down, his hand over his mouth – shocked at what he was witnessing. At the seriousness of the situation.
He was only here because Ramiz had forced him to come with her; a chaperone, to ensure that Lena wouldn’t talk or run.
Ramiz had been a coward once more. Scared that the authorities would question them being in the country, he had stayed at the pub with Kush and sent Korab in his place.
Lena had her confirmation then that Ramiz had not an ounce of love for Roza. He’d watched without a flicker of emotion on his face as paramedics whisked her lifeless body away in an ambulance.
Korab was no better. Ignoring him as he loomed behind her, Lena didn’t want the man anywhere near her. He disgusted her. Just the thought of him now, pretending to care about her daughter, about her, made her feel sick to her stomach. Stay focused, she thought to herself. She needed to be strong for Roza. Roza needed her.
Terrified, Lena looked over to where Roza lay inside the hospital’s clear plastic incubator. Roza’s breath, rasping, wheezy. She kept her eyes transfixed on her; scared to look away even for a second for fear that she might lose her if she did so.
An arm reached out and touched her. Recoiling at first, thinking it was Korab, Lena turned and stared at the nurse beside her.
‘It’s Lena isn’t it? My name is Nurse Cheal. I want you to know that we are doing everything we can right now for your little girl; she’s in safe hands.’
‘Please? Will she be okay?’ Lena begged, her eyes searching the nurse’s eyes as if she would see the answer staring back at her.
‘We need to know what Roza has been given. Any medicines? Do you know how long she’d been like this?’ The nurse’s words were urgent, controlled, but there was a softness in her eyes as she spoke.
‘I haven’t given her any medicine. Nothing.’ Shaking her head. ‘I guess she hasn’t been herself for at least four days now. Though she only got really bad this morning.’
Lena faltered.
‘Is there anything that you’re not telling me, Lena. I really need as much information as possible. Is there anything else you can think of?’
Lena shook her head, unable to keep eye contact with the nurse. She wanted to say that Roza had only been like this since they had fled from Albania. That they had been travelling for days in the back of lorries and vans. That they’d spent the night on a boat. Freezing. Exhausted. She knew she mustn’t though. Ramiz had warned her what would happen if she talked.
His words were still floating around inside her head.
They will take Roza from you.
They will send you back to Albania.
‘We believe that Roza has been medicated, Lena.’ The nurse persevered, not wanting to push the conversation, but she needed Lena to know the seriousness of the situation. ‘We can wait for the toxicology reports to come back, but by then it might be too late. Lena, if there is anything you can tell me, anything at all, it just might help us to save Roza’s life.’
‘She hasn’t been given anything,’ Lena said, her voice full of certainty. ‘I’m her mother, I would know. I haven’t been able to feed her that well. My milk, it has dried up. I’ve tried so hard, please don’t let my baby die.’ Lena was crying now. Until the nurse had spoken of the severity of the situation Lena hadn’t really comprehended the fact that Roza might actually die. ‘Please, you must help her—’
Interrupted, the nurse turned to face the commotion in the room.
‘She’s going into respiratory arrest,’ a voice across the room shouted out, panic erupting all around.
Lena didn’t understand what the words meant but she knew that it wasn’t good. Roza was gone from her vision now. Lost amidst the sea of people as the crash team moved in, huddling around the cot, desperately trying to save her child.
She couldn’t move. All she wanted to do was to run to Roza’s side, to pick her baby up and cradle her in her arms, protect her, but instead she stood paralysed with fear.
‘We need oxygen.’ Another shout came now.
They were losing her. Lena could see it in their faces.
There was another shout in the room. A flurry of movement – a shift in the atmosphere.
Running around to the other side of the room so that she could see Roza again, Lena began to cry hysterically.
Her baby’s tiny body was limp, convulsing. Sporadically jerking about in her crib. Her skin had greyed, her lips tinged an icy blue. The crash team were doing everything in their power to keep her child alive.
As they huddled in around the child Lena lost sight of Roza.
You can do this Roza, Lena prayed. You’re a fighter, baby. You can do this.
Helpless, Lena felt like she was suddenly floating outside of her body, responding in union to Roza’s struggle. Her own chest constricted, her lungs struggling to fill with air.
If Roza died, Lena wanted to die right alongside with her.
‘We’re losing her,’ someone shouted.
The words made Lena’s blood run cold. Her legs buckling beneath her. Roza was losing her fight. Her daughter was going to die.
A sudden screech of an alarm filled the small room. Quickly followed by Lena’s own harrowing scream.
22
‘We’re wasting our time sitting here you know. By the time you get that gash on your head seen to it would have probably fucking healed by itself.’ Vincent Harper had the major hump.
Wedged between Misty and Saskia in the overcrowded waiting room of Chelsea and Westminster’s A & E department he was starting to feel claustrophobic.
He hated hospitals with a vengeance, and it didn’t help that they’d been sitting here like lemons for almost an hour and still they had yet to be seen.
‘Fucking Christ! This place is a fucking safety hazard. If you’re not sick when you get here, you know you’re going to be by the time you fucking leave,’ he muttered as the person across from him started coughing and spluttering their contagious germs everywhere.
Still, at least here he was out of Joshua’s way. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach Aaron’s reprisal. The bloke had acted like a prize cunt tonight, there was no denying
that, but blood was still blood, and Vincent couldn’t help feeling sorry for his younger cousin.
He was a bit soft like that. His cousin had always been able to manipulate him, even back when they had been kids.
Aaron was one of life’s victims. Always down on his luck. The bloke had a way of making people feel sorry for him. That had been one of the reasons Vincent had put in a good word for him with Joshua in the first place, because he felt sorry for him. But barely a month in and Aaron had royally fucked everything up for himself.
People always thought it was Vincent who was the one to look out for between the two brothers. Him being the muscle, with the biggest mouth and the most volatile temper, but it was Joshua who was the real ruthless bastard.
Joshua was clever, shrewd – but what people underestimated was how ferocious he could be. His men carried out all his dirty work, as did Vincent, but it was Joshua who threw out the orders. He didn’t take shit off anyone, family or not.
Agitated now as he thought of his brother and his cousin back at the club, Vincent tried to shrug it off. Casting his eye disapprovingly around the waiting room he shook his head in disgust.
‘Ain’t people got anything better to do on the weekend than hang out at a bloody hospital? I mean, look at them; it’s like a social club for fucking degenerates. Do they congregate here after the pubs start kicking out do you reckon? Just so they don’t have to go home to the fucking squalor they crawled out from… ’
Grimacing, Vincent glared at one man over in the corner, passed out on the metal chair. Clearly worse for wear; a dark stain on the crotch of his jeans where he’d obviously pissed himself. Further down a woman sat slumped in a heap on the floor, semi-conscious, as her friend held a disposable sick bowl under her chin. Pointless really, seeing as the girl had already vomited all over herself, sick dripping from her hair.
‘How much fucking longer are we going to have to fucking sit here!’
It was a statement not a question. Patience might be a virtue but it was something that Vincent certainly wasn’t blessed with.
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