by K A Sands
When people get married, they have their bands publicly announced and displayed. Finding out the date had been the easy part, the rest not so much. People in Beaufort talked though, excited their friends were tying the knot, that the newcomers had made the place their home. That their friends had finally given birth to a daughter. Ryder was a father, who’d have thought the man whore would have wanted to walk that kind of life? People were excited about my son, and his boyfriend, because both were hot as hell. All the people in Beaufort could talk about was Lucca and Ryder and it was fucking nauseating to listen to, but priceless information I needed.
They didn’t deserve to be living the life they were, while I’d had to hide.
“Is dad watching Emily at yours?”
Ah, the great Philip Hamilton, who’d hidden his daughters away for years, and got away with it. The father of the bride, the doting grandfather. There was an opportunity.
I jumped slightly when the waitress slid my espresso in front of me. “Good book?”
“God, yes,” I gushed enthusiastically, hoping it looked like I’d been engrossed in the words and not the conversation two tables away. “Thank you.”
“Just holler if you want anything else.”
“I will, thanks.”
Pleasantries. Ugh. I hated them. I took a quick scan around the room and when I stopped at Laura’s table, she gave a quick smile then looked away, continuing with her conversation. She had no idea. Not a clue that the very person who was going to destroy her life, sat mere feet from her.
“Both addresses are stuck on the fridge.” I watched as she smiled into her phone. “Yes. Two p.m. for the last fitting. When I get home, I’ll text the details.”
Christ, it looked like I was going to be trekking through their garden with a pair of binoculars to get the information I needed. I heard nothing more of Laura’s voice and the next time I glanced up, she was pushing earbuds into her ears and collecting her notepad up to leave.
Not a total waste of time like all the others I’d been in this café. I waited until she was long gone before pulling out my phone and searching for a shop that sold sporting goods in Brighton. Binoculars were not something I had to hand.
* * *
Getting on to Lucca’s property was difficult. He looked to have security attached to the side of the house, but I didn’t give a shit, he wouldn’t recognise me anyway. No, it was that woman’s reluctance to leave the sanctuary of her home, that was the problem. She gave new meaning to homebody.
Is that what my ex-husband wanted? A stay at home wife, cooking his meals, cleaning his house? A woman chained to the kitchen sink? Just like his father. No, thank you.
And bloody hell, I was losing my touch.
The only day Laura left the house, it was pouring with rain. Guess who had four-inch heels on and was now standing in mud at the back of the house, trying to peer through rain soaked windows? This clever bitch, that’s who.
While my stilettos sunk into the sodden dirt, I cursed before reminding myself that ruining a pair of expensive shoes would be more than worth it if I could get what I’d come for.
When I reached for the binoculars hanging around my neck, my annoyance turned to humour remembering the conversation with the sales clerk whilst enquiring as to which the best pair was.
Tell someone a truth that sounded so absurd they couldn’t possibly believe it, and you could fool just about anyone. I’d been candidly honest as to why I wanted binoculars and laughed when I said I’d needed them to spy through my ex’s kitchen window. If he’d have looked closer, he would have seen I wasn’t exactly the bird spotting type. God, men were fickle.
As luck would have it, when I eventually peered through the back window, getting that information pinned on the fridge was a piece of cake. The double doored appliance was at the opposite side of the room, the large memo stuck to it, the only thing decorating the front of one door.
Squinting through the lenses, I grinned. It was perfect, better than I’d hoped. The whole itinerary was on that sheet; four days of plans - times, addresses, phone numbers and even fucking dress codes. Two and a half weeks of boredom had well and truly paid off.
I let the binoculars fall and fished out the powerful little camera I’d purchased in the duty-free lounge before boarding my plane back. I’d known what I was coming back for and the camera had come in mighty handy since buying it.
Zooming and snapping as many shots as I felt necessary, I checked each one was clear enough to see the words, that I could read them fine, then smiled to myself as I got a rush of adrenaline thinking of the mayhem I was going to be causing soon. Very soon.
I was almost ready. Almost ready to let them all know I was back. Let them know they’d best be looking behind them.
You didn’t fuck around with a woman like me and get away with it. Hell, no.
Time they learnt their lesson.
Ryder
“Hey, you got your college thing on Friday?” I asked Shaun as he came through the club door, shucking his damp coat from his shoulders.
“Next Friday, yeah.”
“Nervous?”
“Nah,” he waved a hand in the air, “not really.”
“You did the right thing, Shaun.”
I was so proud of this kid, the balls it must have taken him to come and ask me, of all people, for help. Holding a gun in someone’s face had never had such a gratuitous effect ever. I’d threatened him. But he’d returned the next night looking for a way out of his life. Big balls, right there.
And he’d done nothing but try to prove he was worthy of the second chance he’d begged me for since then. He’d had a few blips in the road, but didn’t we all? The kid was more than worthy, even if he was taking his time to see it. To my surprise, I actually liked him.
“I know.”
Thursdays were big delivery days at the club every week, stocking up for the weekend and Shaun came in religiously without being asked, to give me a hand. I had him bouncing, because he was an intimidating bloke and knew who the trouble makers were, but it was temporary. He was better than being stuck on a club door looking for nuisances and kicking the scum out of my club, by a long mile. The kid had an uncanny knack for numbers, like Lucca did, and both Ayden and I had been pushing him in that direction.
“How’s things at home?” I always asked the same question, he always rolled his eyes at me.
“Good.”
Shaun and Ayden could talk for hours, hell, I’d heard them with my own ears yet surprisingly he had few words for anyone else. Wasn’t rude, just his way.
“Come on, dude. Good tells me nothing,” I laughed.
“Well, Ayden’s stopped sleeping on Jake’s bed.”
That was a step in the right direction. I knew he missed his best friend, we all did, both Lucca and I were worried for a while Ayden wasn’t going to find the end of the tunnel he’d burrowed his way down into. His grief consumed him. Shaun had finally been the one to give Ayden the kick up the arse he needed and begin to confront his emotions regarding the death of Jake and what he’d done in retaliation. As far as I was aware, Shaun still had no idea his boyfriend had put Jake’s killer six feet under. It was probably for the best. Ayden would impart that truth to Shaun if and when he was ever ready.
“The van’s pulling around.” He motioned to the exit doors, the beeping noise ringing through the quiet space.
“Will be Gary. Come on, let’s get this done then you can head off home.”
“Yup,” he said enthusiastically. “Ayden’s trying to cook something. Can’t wait!” His laugh was carefree, his face slack. He was happy, and it looked good on him, those boys had been through enough for a lifetime already.
It had been raining for a couple of days, a steady drizzle, but enough we were going to get wet unloading the boxed booze. God, I hated these kinds of days, the weather always affecting my mood. I hoped it dried up for Lucca and Laura’s wedding.
“Hey, mate. How you doing?” I calle
d out to the man climbing down form the cab of the van. “Full today?”
“Yeah.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “Four, three, six. That right?”
“Sounds about right. Fuckers can put the vodka away on the weekend.”
Half an hour it took to unload thirteen boxes of alcohol, the first one was used to prop open the store room door, the rest were stacked against the wall. We’d need to empty them after Gary left, bar stock was low.
I signed off on the invoice and waited until the van was out of sight before heaving down the shuttered doors. Shaking off the excess water from my hair, I rubbed my hands down my damp jeans.
“I hate this fucking rain,” I grumbled under my breath.
“Tell me about it,” Shaun agreed.
He bent down to the box bracing open the door and sliced the tape across the top with the box cutters. I watched absently as he stumbled backwards, falling on his arse a foot away from the box.
“What the fuck?”
Four steps it took to understand what had made him falter, what he was gawping at. One step it took to haul him to his feet, then out the storeroom and into the hall.
“You didn’t touch it?”
“Fuck no!” His eyes were wide as saucers, fear swirling in them, his breathing harsh. “Just the box, not the shit inside.”
“That came from the van?”
“No shit. It ain’t fucking mine. I’ve not used in ages, never mind handled that crap. I fucking told you I was out, Ryder!” His voice was loud and panicked, rightfully so, this looked bad for him.
We both looked at one another in a light bulb moment.
“Charlie.”
“Charlie…” I decided, trailing off. It didn’t quite feel right. Stella floated about in my head for a few scant moments before I shook the vile woman away. No, this had Charlie written all fucking over it. “Office.”
I followed Shaun down the hallway, pointing him in the direction of an office chair before sitting myself, my heart racing, knowing exactly what was coming.
“All right. You know what happens here next, right?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, resignation sinking in. We were probably going to be in handcuffs before long and spending the next few hours down at the cop shop. Taylor was going to hit the roof.
“Phone Tony. Tell him to get his brother.” Kid thought fast on his feet, I’d give him that.
“Get a hold of Lucca. He needs to get his arse down here, now.”
As if on cue, thunderous knocks erupted from the back of the club whilst something akin to a battering ram pounded at the thick wooden entrance doors.
“Quick,” I hissed, thumbing a text to Tony, it was quicker than calling. I just hoped he’d be right on it and wasn’t off mooching around on another job.
“Jesus, they’re gonna pummel the fucking door down. Arseholes.”
I nudged the mouse on the desk, waking up the computer, the security feeds springing up on the screens. Muttering “fuck” when I saw the arsenal they’d brought to my front door for a drug bust, I laughed at the riot gear while I leaned back in my chair. Someone had set us up, big time, someone who knew Shaun would be at the club. Looked like my truce with Charlie had come to a spectacular end. The old man had given me longer than I thought.
“You got any prior drug convictions?” I’d never thought to ask him exactly how much trouble he’d got into before, it didn’t seem important. A second chance was a second chance.
“Fuck, no. Never got busted for the stuff.” He shoved his phone in his pocket then stood up. “Lucca’s coming. Best go let these twats in.”
“Nah.” I lifted my hands and crossed them behind my head, shoving my feet onto the desk. The pose may have looked carefree; however, I was anything but. “They’re busting my door down anyway. Let them come to us.”
The wood splintering resounded through the vast space at the front of the club, followed by shouts of ‘police’ and I closed my eyes to it all. Guess we were fucked.
They had a warrant. Took them two minutes to find the box and its contents that neither Shaun nor myself had touched. I presumed the coke propping my store room door open was the only box they’d found, it was all they removed. Rights were read, handcuffs tightened, arses marched through the broken door and shoved into the meat wagon parked on the main street. Why they felt the need for their heavy-handed bullshit, I’d never know. It was overkill and unnecessary.
Shaun’s phone was constantly ringing but no one bothered to remove it from his pocket and he couldn’t reach it, what with his hands incapacitated in metal cuffs. It was starting to piss me off. I’d left mine in the drawer of my desk, didn’t want it getting broken, these fuckers were not being gentle by any means.
“It will be Lucca,” he stated.
Yeah. My bro would be blowing up his phone because mine was powered off. “What a fucking mess.”
“I don’t need this shit. Doesn’t look good for next week.” Shaun slumped back against the side of the van. “Ayden’s gonna be bloody furious.”
“It’s not ours, you only touched the box. There’s cameras everywhere, Shaun. You’ll be good, kid, in your own bed tonight. Stop stressing.”
“I hate the cells,” he moaned dramatically.
The van started moving and before long we were hauled into the local station and booked in. Cuffs were taken off, but we were shoved into single cells and believe it or not, it was the first time in my life I’d ever been sober in jail. I looked down at my ink stained hands and laughed.
I was going to fucking kill Charlie.
Shaun
I was going to fucking kill Charlie.
Thoroughly embarrassed, I sat there on the stiff, piss stained mattress and shook my head in disgust. They hadn’t needed to finger print me like they had Ryder. Had half my booking form filled out with my personal details before I’d even stepped foot near the desk. I’d never been done for drugs, but I had plenty other hits to my name.
Talk about reminding a man where he came from.
They’d taken my phone before I’d had the chance to check it or switch it off and I wondered if the fuckers would go through it. Ayden would be royally pissed if another man got an eyeful of what we shared between us. Not PG by any means. At that, I smiled, and hoped the pigs were jealous when they saw what I got to cuddle up to and suck every night, when they saw my boyfriend in all his naked glory.
I knew I had nothing to worry about, but it still unnerved me when they split me and Ryder, putting us in separate cells. It had a been a long while since I’d found myself sitting alone, contemplating my life choices, and I wasn’t enjoying it for a second.
It had to be Charlie. Who else? I didn’t know anyone that hated Ryder enough to do that to him, to threaten his business, except his father. It was more than feasible it was directed at me, the niggle it was a message for us both, wouldn’t quit.
What would it accomplish?
The scrape of the outer lock jarred me from further thought. Tony came into the room with an officer - well, he had three chevrons on his shoulder, so I presumed he was. The man was smiling at me, like he wasn’t seeing me in a place that had no good vibes about it. Cheeky fucker.
“Hey, kid.”
I don’t know where the hell it had come from, but they all called me kid. Him, Lucca, Ryder, Martin. It was like they’d all silently agreed on the nickname behind closed doors at some point just to piss me off. I was twenty fucking seven, not twelve.
“All right.” I craned my neck up to look at Tony, the bloke was a giant of a man.
“Someone got it in for you?”
“Probably,” I shrugged. “Can’t have a past like mine and not make enemies. You know this. You also know I don’t touch that shit anymore. This is bullshit.”
“I know. They do too.” He inclined his head toward the man leaning against the wall. “My brother’s sorting it out. Hang tight, you’ll be out in no time.”
“My old life ain’t gonna let me go so
easily.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against the rough stone wall, pulling my knees to my chin, feet planted on the mattress underneath.
“Patience, kid.” Tony patted my knee. “Couple of hours, then Ayden can come get you.”
“Someone call him already?”
“He’s outside with his dad. Not a happy bunny at all. Said his dinner would be ruined now.”
I burst out laughing. Ayden was not a diva by any means but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. Of course he’d be pissed about his food, he was cooking for me.
“Tell him to stop being a dick and go home. I’ll see him soon, on your say so.”
On a hearty chuckle, he turned and left the room. I liked Tony from the little time I’d spent with him, I definitely appreciated him coming in and putting me out of my misery.
What felt like an eternity later, I was asked to step out of the room and met Ryder in the corridor. We were led through the station to what appeared to be an interview room. We’d both given separate statements on arrival and I was getting sick of all the red tape, I just wanted the fuck home. Wanted a shower, wanted Ayden, then wanted to fall asleep and forget about the day.
The two officers that had escorted us, left after depositing us inside the bare room. It was just a box; magnolia scuffed walls, a table and four chairs, and a stale smell to add insult.
“You okay, kid?”
“Groovy.” I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to relax.
He smirked at me. “Adrian is finalising whatever shit he needs to, then you can get out of here.”
“No charge?”
“Not for you, no…”
I looked at him confused. “What do you mean for me?”
“It’s my name over the door, Shaun. My club. Don’t be naïve.”
“It was a fucking set up, Ryder!” I shouted.
He strolled toward me and quietly spoke. “Yes, it was. But they’re not there yet. They need a charge while they investigate so they can let us go. Adrian is looking at the lightest he can, so it doesn’t affect the licence on the club. He knows it’s bullshit too.”