by K A Sands
“Fine. My sister’s pregnant. You know what I do. I can’t be living this life anymore. I need out.” He eyed me for a long while, looking for the lie, I presumed. “I know you don’t approve.”
“What exactly is it I can do?”
“Your beef is personal with Charlie?”
He smirked at me. “Oh yeah. He makes that known does he? Let me tell you something. What you do for him is what he had in mind for me when I was a young boy.”
“Is that so?”
“Here’s the thing,” he shifted in his seat, “you don’t get to walk away. I’m sure you already know that. How do I know he hasn’t sent you? That this...” he waved his hand at me, “...is his way of getting back at me? I left a very long time ago, something he still holds a grudge over. He doesn’t forget.”
“He didn’t send me.”
“Convince me, then.”
See, the thing about Charlie was he trusted no one. I’d been under him for so long he’d become complacent a time or two. I knew things I probably shouldn’t have, things he probably didn’t know I did. “I know where his drugs come in.”
“Really?”
“And when,” I added.
“What’s your thinking?” Ryder relaxed back in his chair, steepling his crossed fingers under his chin, scrutinising me.
“Either taking down the supply or taking down Charlie. A kid died from some of his gear, and I’m not down with that no matter who stepped on it. His threats about my sister are becoming far too frequent for my liking, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t have her hurt. My best friend is an addict, a junkie because he deals. I want him sober, not dead.” I took a breath and started up again. “I can’t do it on my own, I dunno where to go, who to trust. I’m sick of it all. I’m gonna end up six feet under before I’m thirty, leaving Sophie with no one.”
The silence in the room lasted a long time while he contemplated. Eventually he stood and began pacing the room. “Where’s his gear?”
Jesus, I was jumping in at the deep end without a buoy to keep me afloat. Handing it to him on a plate without any guarantees for Sophie or myself. “You keep my sister safe, I’ll tell you what you wanna know. Everything.”
“Okay, first thing we get straight, and I’m not fucking messing around here,” Ryder grabbed the back of the chair, swinging it into position in front of me before sitting back down. “If I agree to help you and Charlie gets the slightest sniff, he’ll go after your boy out there first, as a warning. Then he’ll hit you with your sister. Now, that big guy at the bar can take care of himself, I presume, but your sister won’t get off as lightly. Stay the fuck away from her.”
I knew how dirty Charlie played, had delivered some of it myself to folk that had crossed him or pissed him off. “She’s staying at a friend’s house. I asked him not to let her leave, to keep her there.”
“Second. I need to talk to my business partner because what I do, he invariably becomes involved. His business is mine and mine his. You understand that?”
And there was the timely moment to show him I meant every word. Uncomfortable as it was, this was the first hurdle. “Ah, which one is your business partner?” I knew his answer, but I wanted his confirmation.
“Not the guy who had you in a head lock.” Yeah, that’s what I thought. “Lucca.”
Fuck...
I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. “I know his wife.” Ryder remained silent, waiting me out. There was nothing to do but tell the truth. “Twice she handed me a fat envelope full of cash with a picture of her husband in it. Twice I refused. The second time, I made it abundantly clear our acquaintance was over.”
“This was when?”
“Over a year ago now, if I remember right.”
“I see. And I guess you were fucking about with her? Because she’s like that, you know. Handsome young bloke like you, wouldn’t have taken much to get her in bed, especially if she had you in her sights.”
“I guess not. Does he know?”
“He knows all about Stella, Shaun. Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “All right. Can you come back in a day or two? Will it look dodgy coming here two nights in a row? Wait...tomorrow is busy, and we don’t open our doors on a Sunday. Day of rest and all.”
I thought for a moment. It would be easy to explain it to Charlie if he had tabs on me. Maybe if I broached it with him first he’d think nothing of it. “Charlie wants his drugs in your club, wants me to do that. I can go to him tomorrow, tell him I found a weakness maybe, a bouncer or something. That might work, he thinks I’ve been trying to get my foot in for weeks now.”
“You still don’t bring any of that shit into my club. I’m not budging on that.” He stood and moved the chair away. “The bloke at the bar, he know your game?”
“I told him a little, not much. I honestly didn’t have a set plan when I came here.”
“You don’t tell him anymore. Tell him I didn’t go for it. Friend or not, he’s a junkie, a drug addict and no matter what you think of him, he could turn on you for a bag of blow if he’s desperate enough. You’d do well to remember that, Shaun.”
I’d always given Boomer the benefit of the doubt, but in the back of my head I was aware of what Ryder was saying to me. What did that say? That I trusted absolutely no one except my sister, who barely tolerated me at the best of times. I needed a miracle, or I was sinking and drowning.
“Charlie owns a hangar at the airport. That’s a starting point.”
“Tomorrow then.”
Ayden
Gripp: I can’t sleep.
Me: It’s not that late.
Gripp: Thank u 4 replying 2 ALL my texts.
I’d said I would. I guess he didn’t think I’d answer them all at the same time.
Gripp: Delicious pic btw :p
Me: That why you can’t sleep?
I was so playing with fire. I mean, where could this go? There was no point to any of it. We had nothing in common, yet I wanted his magic touch, to get lost in the way he melted underneath my fingertips.
Gripp: Got a lot on my mind.
Was that an invitation? Did he want to talk? Was I even going to entertain him this way? I never turned my back on people and this seemed like a subtle plea, that he had things he wanted to share. This distant stranger was asking for something I could give him. I extended the invitation without further thought, hoping it wouldn’t draw me in deeper and bite me on the arse.
Me: U wanna talk? I’m all ears.
Gripp: UR all something, but it ain’t ears.
Me: Funny!
Throwing my phone down on the couch, I blew out a sigh, not wanting to talk to him through texts at eleven o’clock on a Saturday night. Sophie had climbed into bed early and Jake had passed out on the living room floor half an hour ago, his head lolling off the edge of the beanbag, the movie having not been appealing to him. He did look comfy.
Did I want to meet Gripp? One thing would lead to another and that was such a bad idea.
Wasn’t it?
Oh, fuck it. I could control myself around him. I’d managed the other day, I could again. Snatching my phone back up, I bit the bullet. I was still dressed, hadn’t drunk anything, which was lame for a twenty-one-year old on a non-school night. I was good to go.
Me: U wanna meet somewhere?
Gripp: I’m not a very nice bloke. U need 2 know that b4 u make this decision.
I knew about him, I’d gotten that impression from day dot, from the way Sophie talked about him at times. I assumed he had something to do with drugs and being a thug, if the rumours were correct, and she’d left enough clues to put two and two together. Was it an issue?
Me: Do u use?
Gripp: Don’t have a habit but yes, I do. Now and again.
Well, he saved me asking the question. Gripp was telling me he didn’t have a problem, wasn’t a junkie, I had to take his word at face value, give him the benefit of the doubt. What did I know?
Me: So - not an addict?
<
br /> Gripp: No.
Me: West Pier. Half an hour.
Gripp: Thanks : )
And that was the moment I knew my life would change. This man, from the other side of the tracks, who lived a whole different life from my own, had more than a simple effect on me. There was no denying it. Against my better judgement, I wanted to get to know him, burrow under his skin so he’d spill his secrets, wanted to make him feel better, because hell, I could tell he was at rock bottom. I wanted to give him reason to change his ways, live another way.
I wanted to save him.
It was crazy. I couldn’t get my head around any of it, wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it. Whatever capacity Gripp would be in my life in the future would be explosive, would burn, and I wanted into that proverbial frying pan with him more than ever.
He was hot. I mean smouldering, dick hard in an instant hot, with those lazy eyes and the ink he decorated his body with. But it was more. Far more. I wasn’t so stupid I couldn’t see it.
I grabbed my coat and shoved my feet into my trainers. The sweats would have to do, I couldn’t be bothered to change. So what if I looked like a slob, who gave a shit? West Pier wasn’t so far from the Loft, the weather wasn’t too bad, my clothes were fine.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting on a wall, looking out into the dark, the noise of the sea calming my racing heart. What did I expect when Gripp arrived? Cocky and confident? Abrasive? Or the vulnerable man I’d gotten a glimpse of while he’d laid naked underneath me on my hallway floor. All three were insanely appealing. His arrogance and rough around the edges attitude did nothing to turn me off or dampen my attraction to him. It should have. Coupled with the way I imagined he lived his life, I should have been running for the hills, climbing from the deep depths he was pulling me under.
“Hey,” I heard from behind. Not immediately turning around, I sucked a short breath inward, preparing to be meet eyes that ran through my mind daily. Gripp jumped onto the wall then dropped himself next to me, a few short inches away, the heat from his leg scorching my thigh. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” I wrapped my arms around my waist, less from the chill of the night air and more from awareness of being seen with a man like Gripp. “This okay for you?”
“Absolutely. I’m beyond the point of caring.”
“Didn’t think you cared about much anyway.” It wasn’t meant as a dig, far from it, I hoped he didn’t take it that way.
“I don’t. Not really.” He angled forward and jumped from the wall, his feet crunching as he hit the pebbles. “Come on,” he beckoned as he walked away.
I looked down at my white trainers, cursing. Walking the beach meant my shoes would need a good washing by the time I got home. Groaning at the thought, I followed Shaun, my steps quick so I could catch him. Instead of walking along the beach, he was making a beeline for the shore where it was darker, and I had to wonder if that was why he’d headed that way. We trundled through the pebbles in companionable silence until we were far enough away, the noise from the promenade muted and distant. Pier lights twinkled across the water further down, the beach deserted.
It was just Shaun and me, and a mountain of things unsaid between us.
“I quite like you, Ayden.”
His bizarre comment came from nowhere, astounding me in a funny way and I laughed. “I should hope so.”
“This is kinda weird, huh?”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I had to concur. It was weird, Jake and I were similar and got on like a house on fire. I’d never really put much credence into the saying of opposites attract, but there we were. Shaun was my opposite in every single way I could think of, and I was unquestionably attracted to him.
“I wanna get out of all the shit I’m in,” he continued. “For Sophie, I guess. You think if I can untangle all my bad choices, you’d take another look at me? See something worth looking at?”
Gripp stopped walking and stood motionless, staring at the black sprawled out in front of him. His bleak tone hit me hard. There were so many sides to this man, I didn’t even think he even knew who he was half the time, he certainly had my head spinning.
“It’s hard not to look at you, Gripp.” I said the words as I studied the man who seemed so much smaller than his larger than life persona when I was around him. His street name, Gripp, suddenly an ugly sound coming from my mouth, I resolved not to use it again.
Snorting, he stooped down and plucked at the pebbles beneath his feet, picking one up and skimming it far into the night. “That’s kinda shallow. You calling me a pretty boy?”
Pretty was not a word I’d use to describe him, ever. He turned to face me then, mimicking my stance when he tucked his own hands into his heavy grey woollen coat. He didn’t move any closer, just eyed me with curiosity.
“What kind of shit do you need to get out of?”
“All of it.” There was no hesitation to his answer. “I went to see someone tonight. Don’t know if I can trust him, but he seems to have a personal grudge going on with my boss. I thought maybe he could help me.”
“And will he?”
“I think so, hope so anyway.” Kicking at the pebbles by his feet he went on, “I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”
Bowing my head at him, I wondered if his position was so dire he felt such little optimism at earning a clean break. Making the move he seemed hesitant to, I took a step forward, answered his question from earlier. “I’ll always see you, Shaun. If you want this...” Chest to chest, I bent my head down and brushed my lips over his, no more than a passing motion.
“Yes, more than anything I’ve ever craved.”
Pulling a hand from my pocket, I reached for him, tugging at his waist so not a single speck of space came between us. “Come back to mine,” I whispered, want seeping from my hushed tone.
“I can’t,” he sighed, dropping his head to my shoulder.
“No one needs to know. Put your collar up, you’d be hidden for the most part.”
“It’s Sophie.”
“We have her blessing, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Standing together for a while, neither one of us moved away, both lost in our thoughts. I wanted him to come home with me, to share my bed and it was for far more than sex. A yearning to hold him close, to soothe his dark thoughts, give him some peace for a night.
“Okay,” he finally said, “okay.”
We walked back up the beach, not touching, but closer than before. He’d pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears by the time we’d reached the road. From a distance, you couldn’t make out who he was. I knew he had many things to take care of before he would perhaps feel comfortable enough being seen with another man that wasn’t one of his crew. A man he was fucking around with. I understood his paranoia over Sophie too, whatever he was into, she was his sister, an innocent that had every chance of getting caught up in his life in a bad way if he wasn’t careful. Not wanting to be seen with me was sensible, not offensive.
Once inside the flat, I pursed my lips and put a finger to my mouth gesturing to Shaun to keep quiet, not sure if Jake was still lying in front of the tv or not. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation between the two. I didn’t want to wake him or Sophie in case Shaun felt uneasy about being in the Loft and having to explain himself.
Pointing at his feet, I indicated the shoes needed to come off. He did so without complaint, reaching down to slacken his laces and pry his trainers from his feet, the ratty black converse thudding softly to the floor. He followed as I tip toed through the Loft, briefly poking my head into the living room to see that Jake was still sleeping soundly on the beanbag, snoring. I chuckled quietly, his pig snorts were a nightly occurrence.
Pushing open my bedroom door, I waved Shaun inside as I stepped out of his way. The room wasn’t messy as such, just lived in and no dirty laundry on the floor, thank God. DVD’s and cd’s were knocked over in front of my drawers and Uni crap was piled on my desk, otherwise it was
all good. I turned the dimmer down half way while closing the door, keeping the lighting low. Shaun stood awkwardly at the foot of my bed, looking down at the unkempt sheets. He seemed to hesitate before he rubbed at his temple and pulled his collar down, before slipping his jacket from his shoulders, hanging it over the back of my chair.
“That what you’re into?” He smirked when he pointed to a sports poster that I’d hung on one of the walls. The picture was of an Olympic athlete - a swimmer - with the skimpiest speedo on leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Define into.” I motioned as I tugged my own jacket off and flung it over Shaun’s.
“Well, he’s a pretty fit fucking looking bloke, Ayden. Not much on. That what you like in guys? ‘Cos I can tell you right now, I ain’t got a body that looks like that. You’re gonna be sorely disappointed, dude.”
“Did you forget I’ve seen what’s under those clothes already?”
Shaun was nothing like the swimmer currently grinning down at us from my wall. Yes, I was into fit and toned bodies, I was doing a Sports Science degree, so of course I found it appealing. Toned was a sign of someone being healthy and taking care of their body. But it didn’t mean I didn’t find other body shapes attractive and I liked Shaun’s lean muscles and thinner frame too. He didn’t have that coveted ‘v’ riding into his pants or that six pack everyone went daft over, he didn’t need it. I loved the shape of him, moreover the fact he seemed to fit me in all the right ways, which mattered more.
Evading, I used a cop out answer. “I like the male physique.”
“What does it take to look like that?” He jutted his head toward the poster then moved in front and ran his finger down the swimmer’s abs.
Hating he was questioning my attraction to him because of an airbrushed poster of an athlete had me angry. He didn’t need to change, he looked perfect to me. “You look good the way you are,” I snapped at him.
He laughed bitterly. “I’m a skinny fucking runt. You need your eyes checked, mate.”
Marching to where he was, I pushed him face first into the wall, his mouth level with the swimmer’s crotch, catching him by surprise. Pressing my body against his, I breathed into his ear. “There’s nothing fucking wrong with you.” As if to prove my point, I ground my rapidly hardening length against his arse. “You feel that?” He moved his head up and down as I snaked my hand inside the front of his jeans. “And this?” Another nod when I squeezed him. “That’s what I’m into, Shaun.”