by Emma Tallon
‘OK, Ash, you do that. But you tell John this.’ She walked back to her desk again and leaned over it, putting her weight on her hands and her face closer to the man in the chair. ‘I have no problem paying the higher prices that I used to, to make sure I get the quality I order. It’s that simple. That is the new deal going forward, as of right now. I also expect one of your vans this afternoon, exchanging the rest of the shit I have here for the real deal. All of it. Tell John to invoice me the difference from what I’ve already paid for it. Then we’ll say no more on the matter. If this isn’t completed to my satisfaction by the end of today, I won’t be quite so reasonable. OK?’
‘Yes, Miss Davis.’ Ash nodded curtly and stood up.
‘One more thing: tell John I don’t want him trying to push his cheap stuff through here again. I appreciate his thoughts were probably in the right place, passing on the savings and everything, but that isn’t what’s important to me here. Now he knows that, we can all stay friends.’
‘Of course. I’ll pop back this afternoon and see to the exchange myself.’ He would have to text his ex and arrange to see the girls another time. He felt a pang of guilt, but this was more important right now. Neither he nor his boss could afford to alienate the Tylers. It would be business suicide.
Anna nodded as he left her office and scurried off to download their conversation to John. She chewed her lip. She should have fired them as suppliers, really. She had been furious when she realised what had been going on. Furious at herself, too, for not realising sooner. But they had been very good suppliers for almost as long as the club had been open, and there had never been an incident like this before, so she decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and a second chance. After all, they weren’t doing it to try to cream loads of extra profit, not at the prices they were charging. A lot of clubs would be grateful for the arrangement. But not Anna. With the rest of her world a myriad of grey, she kept the running of her club black and white.
Sitting down in her chair, Anna folded her arms and stared off into the distance. Her deep blue eyes unfocused as she became lost in thought. It was quiet in her office, the soundproof door blocking the noise of Carl’s stocktake in the main bar. It was so quiet that Anna jumped slightly when her phone rang.
Focusing back on the present, she looked at the screen. It was Tanya.
‘Hi, how’s it going? Are they any good?’ She paused, listening. ‘Oh really?’ Anna’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up in interest. ‘It sounds like they’re exactly what we need. Let me know what you arrange, when you’ve talked to them. My diary is pretty flexible all week. For that anyway.’ She studied her shiny pink nails as Tanya talked. ‘OK, great. Speak to you later then.’ She clicked off the call and smiled as the framed picture of herself and Freddie caught her eye.
It was one that Thea, Freddie’s sister, had taken at a party about a year ago. Anna loved it, because it had caught them in a candid moment of happiness. Every time she looked at it, she could see all the love, loyalty, happiness and friendship they shared, captured in one shot.
Three happy years they had shared together so far, and Anna hoped that they would continue to share many more. Freddie had been the first person she had met, after Tanya, when she moved to the area. She had been vulnerable and scared, running away from her tyrannical ex, trying to start a new life. Freddie had been kind and patient with her, offering friendship at a time she badly needed it. Little did she know at the time that Freddie would be the one who freed her from the violent, psychotic Tony for good. Freddie had saved her both physically and mentally, and enabled her to become the strong, confident woman she was today. She had a lot to be thankful to him for.
Anna touched the photo with the tips of her fingers. Thea had a good eye for photography. It was something she had been doing as a hobby for a while, but lately she had been talking about doing a college course and trying her luck professionally. Anna hoped she did it. It would be a shame for her to waste her talent and passion.
With one last fond smile at the photo, she turned back to the accounts. The sooner they were done, the sooner she could get back home to see Freddie.
2
Michael Tyler walked into the bright sunshine and straightened his suit jacket. Smartly dressed and standing tall at just over six feet, he looked like a different person to the troubled teenager who’d returned home in disgrace three years ago after been expelled from school. Having being bullied for his common background and criminal siblings, Michael had turned to violence and drug dealing in an attempt to become feared instead of victimised. He had developed a deep hatred for the school and its rich, stuck-up students and a burning anger towards his brother – the one who had put him in such a difficult position. When he had finally been caught and sent home, the family had been devastated that he had suffered so much.
Freddie had hoped by sending him there, it would set him on a different path. He felt no shame at what he did. It was life. Freddie had played the cards he had been dealt, worked hard, built an empire. He stood proud and was respected. But Freddie also knew how dangerous the life could be. He had hoped to give his brother an easier path, a safer one. But Michael had ended up getting into illegal activities anyway. It seemed no matter where he sent him, there would only have been one outcome. Perhaps it was just in their blood.
Once Michael had calmed down and settled in back home, Freddie had taken him under his wing. If Michael was determined to get into the life anyway, then the best thing he could do was keep him close. Mollie, their mother, had taken some time to come round to the idea, but eventually she accepted it. It was what it was. The Tylers stood together, through thick and thin.
Three years on, Michael worked directly under Freddie and was known as the youngest of the respected and feared Tyler brothers. Freddie ran almost all of the organised crime that went on through East and West London. He owned the Central belt and everyone in it. If it wasn’t directly his business, he had a stake and a say in it. His fingers were in all the pies. Nothing crept past him.
With a quick, smart head on his shoulders, Freddie had paid his dues and risen up respectfully in his younger years, before taking on the mantle from the older faces before him. Since that point, he had continuously added new ideas and ventures until he had doubled the number of criminal enterprises under their control. He had his brothers and a solid firm around him, making sure everything ran smoothly. Central London’s criminal underworld had never been stronger.
Squinting up at the bright sky, Michael stepped down onto the pavement. He looked both ways down the busy street and then walked over to his car, parked almost directly in front of the betting shop he had just vacated. The envelope holding the thick wad of money he had just collected made a crinkling sound in his pocket as he bent down to slide into the sleek black BMW. Unfastening his jacket he reached into the inside pocket to pull the envelope out, frowning in annoyance. He had his suits fitted perfectly, by the best tailor on Savile Row. He disliked anything that messed up their perfectly cut lines. And this bulky package did just that. He opened the glove box and threw it in until later, when he would deliver it back to Freddie. Now, though, he had another few rounds to do.
Looking over his shoulder, he swung the car out into the road. The engine roared as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. He turned his music on, and the deep electronic beats drowned out the sounds of life around him.
He stopped at the next traffic lights and waited for two girls to cross. They looked about eighteen or nineteen, not much younger than him. As one of them chatted away, the other’s eyes glanced over him as she took in her surroundings. She immediately flicked her eyes back for a second look. Raising one eyebrow, she smiled flirtatiously and raised one hand to him. Michael half smiled back and nodded politely. The girl giggled something to her friend and the pair of them studied him together. Michael sighed deeply and waited for them to move on. It wasn’t unusual this reaction, these days. He was the proverbial ugly duckling who
had grown into a swan. Gone were the awkward days of pubescent acne and skinny arms. Michael was now trim and muscular from hitting the gym every day and was graced with the same brooding good looks as his brother Freddie. Out of the three of them, it was only Paul who seemed to have missed out on that front. He sported overly large, bulky features and a constantly awkward expression. Although not outright ugly, Paul didn’t attract the sort of female appreciation that his brothers did.
The lights turned green and Michael moved on. As he pulled round to his destination in the middle of Soho, he bumped the car up onto the kerb and turned the engine off. He left it there, ignoring the double yellows. Locking the car behind him, Michael stepped through a brightly lit door with colourful neon light tubes flashing through the windows.
Inside there was a small waiting room with chairs around the edges and a reception desk. Several men were seated, waiting for their appointment. None of them looked up when Michael walked in, nor made eye contact with any of the other men in the room. Michael smirked. It always made him laugh seeing them here, looking away as if this meant they wouldn’t be noticed by anyone. A bell had chimed as he walked in, signalling his arrival to Linda, the manager of this massage parlour.
She appeared through the doorway behind the desk, looking annoyed and flustered. She patted her mess of natural dark curls, which were piled up and pinned on top of her head. Even up there, it didn’t help to make her look any taller than her five feet, two inches. In her late thirties, she was too old for his tastes but still a very pretty woman, Michael thought. For a tom anyway. Her high, girlish voice sang out as she appeared.
‘Welcome to Heaven Sent massage parlour, what can I do you for tod—oh! Hello, love.’ Her eyes crinkled up at the corners as she flashed Michael a genuine smile. ‘You alright? How’s things?’ Michael smiled back. He liked Linda. She was a nice old bird, did her job well and was always straight down the line with you. She never put on any pretences – you always knew where you stood. He appreciated that about her. Too many women played games, and he didn’t have time for that.
‘Things are good, thanks. What about here?’
Her eyes flicked back towards the hallway, annoyance creeping back into them again. ‘They’re OK. Come through the back – I’ll get you a cuppa.’
Michael nodded and followed her through. When things were running smoothly, Linda would just give him the side profits straight away. She didn’t waste time with idle chitchat. When she was offering a cup of tea, it meant that she had things to discuss with him.
‘Brenda,’ she shouted through to one of the side rooms, ‘come manage the front for a few minutes.’
They walked through the long, narrow hallway past a number of closed doors, and Michael could hear muffled grunts and groans through a couple of them as he passed. They reached Linda’s office, and Michael closed the door behind them before he sat down in one of the two comfortable chairs situated either side of the tiny desk. Linda busied herself with pouring two cups of tea from the already boiled kettle on the side table, the first of which she handed to Michael.
‘Cor, it’s been a right day here.’ She huffed and sat down in the chair opposite him. She took a deep sip of her tea before continuing. ‘Sandy, you know the Northern girl we took on last month? Well, I’ve just finished introducing a bunch of regulars to her timetable, got these guys all comfortable with her, you know, a long-term girl and all that. They’re decent spenders too, this lot. She’s got a body to die for, so I gave her the good ones. It was all set up nice. Stupid girl’s only gone and started using, ain’t she?’ She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘Walked in on her jackin’ up. In here too! Fuck sake. Imagine if I had been her next client!’
Michael shook his head and sighed heavily. He knew the girl she meant. While Linda was trusted with the recruitment of their girls, the family still carried out a final vetting process on them. Michael remembered inspecting her a few weeks ago, just before she started. She was a very attractive girl. And a stupid one, it would now seem. There were two rules upon being recruited into one of the Tylers’ houses. The first rule was to keep schtum. If ever questioned by anyone outside, this was a straight massage parlour. The second rule was to keep clean. No drugs.
His brother Freddie didn’t want any of the girls in his houses doing whatever was necessary to get enough money for their next hit. That made them desperate and cheap. That wasn’t what they were about. These girls were prostitutes, but they were healthy and clean for the punters. Freddie also wanted to make sure they did it out of choice. He never wanted to be like the wankers out there who gave girls no choice. This was a business, not a slave market. The girls were well paid, looked after and could leave whenever they wanted. That was the score in the Tylers’ parlours. She was lucky to have got a place, and she had fucked it up already.
‘I’ve told her to pack her things and get on her way by tonight. I ain’t having a smack-head around my other girls. Now I’m going to have to distribute her regulars to the others. Hope this chopping and changing don’t piss any of them off enough that they stop coming.’ She looked concerned.
‘They won’t. It might annoy them, but they’ll stick it out. It’s more hassle to move.’
‘Hopefully you’re right. Anyway,’ she changed the subject, ‘that’s my problem to solve. What I really wanted to talk to you about is this new face on the beat.’ She sipped at her tea again. ‘I don’t know if you’re already aware of him, but he definitely ain’t on your payroll. Fresh-faced boy, full of good intentions.’ Linda rolled her eyes. ‘He must be straight out of police school, or whatever it is they do. He’s assigned to this area, keeps trying to befriend everyone, get to know the local community and all that. He’s started to cotton on here, started questioning my girls when he sees them out. Good thing is, he’s very by the book, so he’s poked around but not tried to do anything formally yet. He can’t, till he gets some evidence. It’s becoming more and more of a problem, though. He’s like a dog with a bone. He’s started just standing there on the other corner, watching the place. It’s putting the clients off. Can you ask Freddie to get him off our backs? The name’s Reynolds.’
Michael sat leaning on one arm of the chair, absentmindedly stroking his index finger over the dark stubble on his chin. His bright blue eyes had stared at Linda as she talked but now glazed over slightly. Linda shifted her weight uncomfortably. His eyes were still locked with hers, but they seemed to be looking straight through her. As the seconds ticked on, she wondered if he had even heard what she’d said. She drew in a deep breath, about to repeat her request, but the action seemed to wake Michael up. His eyes refocused and, shaking himself slightly, he looked down at his watch as he stood up.
‘Yes, no problem, Linda. I’ll see him later today, ask him to get it sorted out for you.’
‘Great. Thanks, mate. You got time to unwind a bit before you go?’ she questioned. Unlike both of his brothers, Michael liked a visit with one of the girls now and then. He was a hot-blooded young man. Freddie, she knew, had a long-term woman. Paul she didn’t know what to make of really. He was nice enough but a bit of an oddball in her opinion. He had refused every time she’d asked, so over the years she had stopped offering. She waited as Michael considered.
‘Yeah, go on then. I’ve got a bit of time. Who you got?’
‘I think I’ve got Carla free.’
Michael followed Linda down the hall, his expression eager. He liked Carla. Linda knew that. Carla was just his type. All long legs and pert tits, she was a cheeky thing and always knew how to get him going. He hung back as Linda knocked gently on the door. It opened almost immediately and a thin, pretty face popped round. As soon as she saw who was with Linda, the door was opened wide, and Carla welcomed him warmly into the small side room.
‘Well, hello, you,’ she purred, looking overjoyed to see him. Michael wondered if all her punters got the same greeting or whether it was reserved just for people with the name Tyler.
&nb
sp; ‘I’ll leave you to it. No rush, love, enjoy.’ Linda closed the door behind him and Michael began to relax. The lights were dimmed and the dark burgundy walls gave off a cosy feeling. The air held a mixed scent of lavender and sex. It was sweet and heavy. Some people may have minded it, but Michael didn’t. It did something for him; put him in the mood. Perhaps he was getting too used to whores, he thought briefly.
Undoing his clothes until he stood there naked, he then handed them to Carla, who folded them carefully and laid them out gently on the small chair in the corner. She knew his ways. This was one of the reasons why he liked going to her above some of the others. He lay on the bed, facing upwards, pulling one arm up behind his head. He watched her as she pulled off the plain white shift dress they all wore, a nod to the work they were actually supposed to be doing here. She wore nothing underneath, and he let his eyes trail appreciatively down her body. She gave him a filthy smile, which he couldn’t help but return. Climbing onto the bed down by his feet, she looked up at him, preening forward like a wild cat.
‘We’ll skip the massage – I know you can’t be arsed with that bit. Now, do you want naughty or naughtier? We both know I don’t do nice.’
Michael’s arousal grew in front of them, and he stared at her hungrily. She arched her neck teasingly, showing off her breasts. Michael’s eyes narrowed. Patience wasn’t his strong point at the best of times – she should know that by now. He had no time for her teasing. Something inside of him began to grow angry as she taunted him. He reached forward and grabbed her, pulling her to him in one swift move. She let out a quiet gasp as his cold gaze burned into her intensely.
A second later he grinned gamely and flipped the lithe young woman onto her back. He chuckled and ran his hands over her body, leaving Carla questioning whether she had just imagined the cold, dangerous look flash across his face. Opening her arms she pulled him close, reminding herself that Michael would always be a dangerous man. Because above all else, Michael was and always would be a Tyler.