by Ezekiel King
“Cyrus, is this your girlfriend?” Bob asked as he stared at Emma.
“Yes, mate,” I replied as I smiled inside.
“So, you have got a nice car and a nice girl then, my friend,” Bob joked with admiration.
I leaned across to open the back door next to me for Emma. Emma got into the car, and I made the necessary introductions. Bob helped with the introductions, as I didn’t know his friend ‘Cara’s’ name. I leaned over to give Emma a kiss. “You look beautiful,” I said as I kissed Emma.
“So do you,” Emma replied. She smiled at me, and I held her hand as Bob drove.
“Have you got any weed on you, Cyrus?” Bob asked.
“No, I haven’t, mate,” I replied. Bob suggested that we go and get some weed, so I directed him back towards my area to go to the McBride’s. John McBride opened his front door and ran to the white hatchback with three £10 bags of weed and a handful of rolling papers. “Thanks, mate, I will call you later,” I said as I closed the electric window.
“Shall we go for food in Birmingham?” Bob asked as we pulled off.
“How are Emma and I going to get back to Coventry though?” I asked as I didn’t have any transport. We decided to stay in Coventry, as Bob told Cara to have a look online for a hotel suite for them to spend the night in. They found a suite at the football stadium. The hotel was built on the football stadium grounds. Cara showed us a room called ‘the water room’ with a giant Jacuzzi in the middle of the room. Two 60-inch flat screen TVs and a queen-sized bed with a minibar and eight-seat dining table.
“Book that for me,” I said as I stared at the pictures on Cara’s phone.
“Book the same suite or one like it for us,” Bob said.
We drove towards my favourite restaurant to eat and have a drink.
“Cyrus, the room that you want is £190 for the night,” Cara said as she turned to show me the price on her phone.
“That’s okay,” I said as I looked at Emma, hoping she didn’t mind me arranging to book us a hotel room for the night.
“Emma, you haven’t got to go home tonight, have you?” I asked.
“No, I’ve got to go out tomorrow with my mum, but that’s not until tomorrow afternoon,” Emma replied.
“Bob, your room is £150,” Cara said as she showed Bob the price on her phone.
“Cara, we are not bothered about the prices. You can’t put a price on spending time with the people you care about,” Bob added smoothly. As Bob parked the car outside the restaurant, Bob gave Cara £100 and said, “You two go in and order some drinks and get us a table, we will be inside in ten minutes,” Bob said. I reached into my pocket to do the same. “Cyrus, what is it with you and paying for things? At least let me get us the first round of drinks; you can get the next round when we go in,” Bob said just as annoyed as when I had offered to pay for dinner. I couldn’t believe my luck as I watched Emma walk off towards the restaurant—tight skirt and her curvy figure. “Cyrus, let’s smoke a joint, then sit outside the restaurant smoking it while we talk,” Bob said as I got out of the back of the car and into the passenger seat. Bob and I did not speak about anything illegal in Bob’s car. Instead, we spoke about the hotel rooms we had booked, and how pretty the girls looked.
I told Bob that I had only just been out for dinner with my actual girlfriend. We laughed and joked. Bob told me he was married to a quiet Asian girl, and that Cara was his ‘out-on-the-town piece’. We got out of Bob’s car to sit on the outdoor tables and chairs where Jason and I once sat on together. This time, I was with Bob, smoking a joint, and Jason’s once girlfriend Emma was inside ordering me a cocktail. “Cyrus, you sold that kilo fast,” Bob said now willing to talk business, now that we were out of earshot of the car and the girls.
“Yes, I could have sold another half a kilo, but I didn’t have it,” I explained.
“Build your money up, then buy it for cash; it’s easier for both of us that way,” Bob said as he smoked his joint.
“Well, what I want to do is sell the two that you have given me, then get another two; then buy either two or four kilos for cash up-front,” I suggested.
“Cyrus, I don’t mind however you want to do business,” Bob said as he threw the half-finished joint on the floor.
“Come on, let’s go in before someone steals our girls,” Bob joked as we walked into the restaurant. We found Cara and Emma sitting at the table drinking cocktails. Two more cocktails were at the empty table spaces opposite the girls. I explained to Bob that the cocktails were Bahama Mammas. Bob had already had them before and told me his stocky white mate Luke loves them.
We sat and joked between the four of us as we ate our meals of steak and shrimp and fish while we drank our cocktails. I decided to take my time with the alcohol; as this was the first time I had been out Emma and Bob, there was no way I would be making a fool of myself. “Bob, I want a watch like yours,” I said as I looked at his wrist which was glistening with orange, blue, pink, red and green as the lights hit the diamonds that were encrusted all over the large rectangular bezel.
“Yes, I’ve got another one; you can have this one for £20,000,” Bob said seriously. Twenty thousand pounds for a watch? I thought.
“I will buy it in a month. I just want to save up some money first,” I replied.
We left the restaurant to go and check into our rooms before going out to town. Bob wanted to leave his car outside of the hotel and catch a taxi to a bar to avoid drunk-driving. Bob didn’t mind having a drug-factory, but wasn’t prepared to drunk drive, was my initial thought. I didn’t question Bob, as I knew he would have a perfectly good explanation for his actions.
Bob parked up outside the hotel on the grounds of the football club. I gave Cara £190, and Bob gave Cara the money for their room. We let the girls go into the hotel reception together to pay and collect our room keys. “Cyrus, I bet you cannot wait to get Emma back to that hotel room,” Bob said as he watched the two women walk off towards the electric doors into the reception.
“You know what, Bob? You are not far wrong,” I said as I smiled and reached into the front to fist pump him.
Just over five minutes later, we saw the two girls coming back towards the car. We got out of the car to wait for the taxi we had told them to ask reception to call after getting our room keys. “Cyrus, I cannot believe you have just paid all of that money for one night,” Emma said as she gave me a plastic card which was the room key.
“Why? I would have paid double!” I said as I smiled and slid the room key into my back pocket.
All four of us spotted the hackney carriage taxi turning off the main road into the hotel car park. The air was cool and the sky was beautiful as it was just starting to change colour to get dark. By the time we got out of the taxi, it was dark; we decided to go to a bar instead of a club. We wanted to find somewhere that wouldn’t have hundreds of drunken arseholes, so we chose a popular bar on High Street. The two big doormen shook Bob’s hand as he led the three of us in behind him. We walked through a dim-lit alleyway before coming out into the courtyard. Music was blasting out from behind a set of double glass doors. We followed Bob through them; then up a set of winding stairs, there had been a room downstairs that had people drinking and music playing, but Bob had just led us straight upstairs. We entered a room upstairs that had a DJ playing house music; summer songs that were new and current. There were a lot of pretty girls in this place, mostly with white guys with skinny jeans and gelled hair.
The music was loud and vibrating my chest as I stood near to the speakers. Bob walked over to the bar to speak to the barman. I watched as Bob leaned over the bar, being careful not to let his expensive jumper touch the surface of the bar. “Come on, let’s go out into the garden,” Bob said to me as he turned to walk back out of the room. We followed Bob back through the door we had used to get in, then through a door opposite which led to the garden area—it was the first garden I had ever seen that was upstairs. It had leather sofas and chairs and a big g
azebo that would stop any rain falling on the gardens occupants. The garden had spotlights that housed powerful red heaters underneath them; the leather sofas were cream and had big glass tables in front of them with miniature tree-looking plants in expensive-looking pots here and there. In the middle of the garden area was a square-shaped bar which was smaller than the one inside, like a type of cocktail bar. We all sat on a leather sofa—Emma and me on a two-seater, and Bob and Cara on another.
“Shall we get a drink?” I shouted over to Bob to try and be heard over the loud music and other 60 or 70 people in the garden.
“No, we don’t go to get drinks; they bring the drinks to us,” Bob said as he sat forward. As he did so, I spotted the guy Bob had spoken to at the bar walking towards us. “Cyrus, I’m going to get a bottle of rosé champagne, it’s £180 a bottle. If you don’t want that one, then get a cheaper one for £80 a bottle,” Bob suggested as the barman stood awaiting our decision.
“It’s a special occasion, I will have the rosé as well,” I said. Bob and I both sat back in the leather sofas to make access easier to the wads of cash in our jeans pockets. I counted out £180 and gave it to the waiter as Bob did the same.
“Cyrus, I cannot believe that you do not have a girlfriend if this is how you treat girls,” Emma said as she squeezed my hand. I leaned over to give her a kiss.
“I don’t treat girls like this; I want to treat you like this,” I said before I kissed Emma again.
“Save that for the hotel room, Romeo,” Bob said jokingly; Emma and I laughed as Cara smacked Bob on the leg.
“Leave them alone, you,” Cara said in my defence.
The sky was still visible at the side of the gazebo. Considering we were outside, it was quite warm. I put that down to the heaters and all the people blocking the wind with the big glass walls around the garden at waist height. I spotted flashes of light coming from inside as they court my eye; my looking in that direction made Emma and Cara look in the same direction. It was the same waiter followed by another waiter, they both had big white buckets sitting on big shiny platforms balancing on their shoulders. In the buckets were our bottles of champagne with a giant sparkler for presentation.
I smiled as the waiters walked over and placed the two buckets on our table, the buckets had the names of expensive champagnes written in black letters on the side of them. Bob was expressionless as the two waiters placed the buckets down on the table in front of us. The two waiters took a bottle each and opened them, then carefully filled four champagne flutes with the pink coloured champagne, handing the girls a glass each first and then Bob and me. Bob nodded at them to say thanks before they left. “Cyrus, you can say a toast,” Bob shouted at me above the music. I had never said a public toast before, but I was never short of something to say either.
“Here’s to the best of people, sharing the best of things, making the best of life,” I said cheerfully and merrily.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” we all said as we ‘clinked’ our champagne flutes together.
I could feel the eyes of everybody in the beer garden looking at us, and I could tell a few people were talking about us. It felt good though, like we were celebrities.
The four of us sat drinking our rose champagne and listening to the music while talking and laughing joking. We sent the girls inside to dance together while we smoked weed in the garden. The door staff had come upstairs and took one look at who the weed-smoking culprits were and shook our hands, signifying their respect.
“Watch the manager with the weed—he’s a dickhead,” one of the big butch doormen had said before going back downstairs. This is the life, I thought to myself as we sat talking.
The girls returned after 15 minutes. “Cyrus, you are the best. I’m so glad I met you,” Emma said as she sat down and kissed me. I could tell Emma was tipsy; I was closer to drunk than tipsy.
We finished our champagne, and Bob ordered us all a double vodka and lemonade. “We will drink these, then go,” Bob said as the waiter delivered our drinks to our table.
“I want you to be my girlfriend,” I whispered into Emma’s ear as we all climbed into a waiting taxi.
“Do you mean that?” Emma replied as she captivated me with her amazing gaze.
“Yes,” I replied.
“You’re my boyfriend then,” Emma replied as we passionately kissed in the back of the taxi.
The four of us staggered into the hotel reception and into the lift. “Where’s your room?” I asked Bob.
“I have got no idea, I will find it to though,” Bob said before laughing at the fact he had no clue where he was—the champagne had definitely made Bob lightheaded. Emma and I said goodbye to Bob and Cara as we headed off in opposite directions to look for our hotel suites. I read the door numbers as I walked… ‘48’, ‘50’… ‘water room’ was in the place where numbers had been on other doors.
I took the key from my back pocket and opened the door. “Wow,” Emma said as she stepped into the suite in front of me. It was amazing; there was a large bathroom immediately on the left behind a brown door. In front of us was a large brown table, positioned to the right; and behind that, at the back of the suite, was a queen-sized bed with a giant Jacuzzi to the left of the bed. It was a big circular tub, easily able to fit six people inside. The suite had a sitting area behind the bed to the right. It had two large flat screen TVs on the walls. One was in front of the sitting area, and one on the opposite wall, both visible from the Jacuzzi or the bed. The floor from the entrance to the bed area had dark wooden flooring, and around the bed had carpet that stopped just before the Jacuzzi. The room was amazing.
“I will fill the Jacuzzi up while you call room service to bring us a bottle of rosé,” I said as I began to fill the tub.
Emma and I soaked in the Jacuzzi, drinking wine and making love. This is the life, I thought as I sat back to let the powerful jets massage my back. Emma was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! Her body was perfection—round bum and bright round eyes—absolutely stunning. From the Jacuzzi to the bed, we enjoyed each other before falling asleep.
Chapter 18
It had been three years since Emma and I had officially became boyfriend and girlfriend. Well, we were official in the sense that Emma told everybody she was my girlfriend, and I confirmed this to anybody that would ask me. We were also official in the sense that I knew if she ever caught me taking the odd girl to a hotel, she would chop my dick off and put my head on a stick.
I had come a long way from the 16-year-old wanting to make a few quid. I was almost 20 years old now, and my mentality had evolved completely. I was no longer interested in £10 bags of weed. I had given my whole weed-selling operation to my brother, Daniel. Chris had also given my brother all his bulk cannabis customers. Jabber was happy to deal with my brother, Daniel. After all, it was money.
I now had ten very good customers from different parts of the country that bought kilos of cocaine and heroin from me. Bob and I had spoken every day, and we were as close as Chris and I had ever been. Bob had taken me back to his drug-factory at Bubbles’ house. This time, without the blindfold, and showed me how to mix heroin; it was basically the same process to mix and press as cocaine. The only difference was instead of using cocaine, you would use heroin; and instead of using benzocaine, you would use mannitol. Mannitol is a white powder that, once heated, liquefies and would run down a piece of tinfoil as a liquid that was either red or clear. People would blend heroin with mannitol, and the drug-addicts would know the ‘gear’, as they call it, has been mixed. So some bright spark brought out a new type of mannitol that runs clear, so when the drug addicts put it on the foil to heat it, it will just look like heroin is supposed to look.
A heroin-addict would get a flat piece of tin foil and make an indent along the length, then pour a £10 bag of heroin at the top of the indent, roll a tube out of foil and put that in their mouth to suck the vapour. Then they use a lighter to heat t
he powder from underneath the tin foil and suck the fumes and smoke from the pile of liquid heroin as it runs down the foil. Addicts would sit down and follow the pile of molten heroin with the tube in their mouth up and down the foil until the last bit frazzled away to their despair.
Once the pure heroin had been blended, it would be compressed exactly the same way using the metal box. More pressure was needed to hold the heroin/mannitol mixed together. Bob gave me kilos of heroin for £17,000, and I sold them to my Scottish friend for £25,000.
Chris did the majority of my logistical work. He was happy to; he had brought my red rally car and crashed it not even a month later while drunk-driving. He had ran away from the car where he had left it practically attached to a lamppost.
I had invested £400,000 to buy a car rental company with Bob. My half of the business was in my mum and dad’s name, it had cost me another £80,000 to legalise the money, so it could be deposited into my mum’s bank account. Bob had got his friend who lived in Dubai to send £400,000 to my parent’s bank account, in exchange for a bag containing £480,000 being dropped to Birmingham to an Arab family. Our business was doing very well; we had top of the range German and Italian prestige cars, and we planned to spend another £400,000 each in a year or so to buy a few Italian supercars.
Chris was our first customer, and he practically claimed a brand-new, white, six-litre German saloon. Bob and I didn’t care. Chris had been warned if he drinks and crashes the car, he best either have the money, or be ready for his mum and dad to re-mortgage their house.