The conversation with Sarah made her reflect on her success, or lack of it, when it came to the opposite sex. She was no innocent virgin, but wasn’t that experienced either and her relationships had usually been brief. To call any of them serious was probably stretching the truth, with the longest one lasting no more than a couple of months. That was a conscious choice while she was studying because she didn’t want anything getting in the way of achieving good results. In the year since her graduation, she hadn’t really met anyone although she was busy at her father’s company and with her volunteer work.
“Good excuses, Brigitte,” she let out under her breath. “Like you’ve made any real effort to meet someone, but maybe tonight will change that.”
The snort came out unbidden and she couldn’t quite convince herself that a night out with Sarah would lead to her finding the man she would spend her life with. There was no doubt it would be an experience though. An evening out with the friend she just called crazy was always entertaining, but she put thoughts of it aside when she washed the dishes after finishing her meal.
She went upstairs afterwards to get ready and began her preparations with a shower. Catching sight of her naked body in the bathroom mirror when she stepped out of the cubicle made her stop, and she turned from side to side. Her slim, lithe physique wasn’t on a par with Sarah’s impressive curves, but she liked her figure and knew her long, shapely legs looked good in a short skirt. She gathered her shoulder length, blonde hair on top of her head and moved closer to the mirror to inspect her face.
“Not bad, Brigitte,” she teased her reflection, but let her hair spill down again when she turned away to grab a towel and dry herself.
She then walked to the bedroom to carry on getting ready. Forty minutes later, she was sitting at the dressing table staring at her face again as she completed her makeup. She blotted her red lipstick with a tissue and smiled to make sure there was no color on her teeth. The sound of the ringing phone caught her attention and it made her get up to move over to her bed. She was sure it was Sarah calling, but saw it wasn’t her friend’s number when she lifted the phone.
“How did the discussions go?” she asked when she answered the call.
“They were productive,” her father said. “I’m calling to let you know I will be staying here tomorrow and I’m going to travel home the day after that.”
“I’ll survive,” she teased him and laughed. “Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m on my way to the hotel now,” her father answered. “I’ll get some room service there.”
“Don’t work too late,” she told him.
“Who, me?” her father replied.
“Yes, you,” she said. “I know this business is important to you, but get some rest.”
“Tell me again,” he teased her. “Which one of us is the parent?”
“Very funny,” Brigitte said and rolled her eyes.
“What are your plans for tonight?”
“I’m on my way out to meet a friend for a drink,” Brigitte told him.
“Well, well,” he went on teasing. “My first night away in how long and you’re off out carousing.”
“You’re showing your age,” Brigitte joked. “I don’t even know what carousing is, old man.”
“Maybe we should have that father daughter talk about being respectful to your parents,” he shot back.
“Yeah, yeah,” Brigitte said. “Make sure you eat something and get some rest.”
“And you make sure you behave yourself.”
“I promise,” she said in a cheeky voice. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” her father said.
She hung up the call then went to put on her shoes and jacket before moving to the wardrobe to make a final check on her appearance. A glance at her legs showed they did look good in the mid-thigh length skirt she wore and the heels certainly helped with that. Afterwards, she made sure her wallet and keys were in her bag then walked out the bedroom to make her way downstairs. It was now seven thirty and that meant she was timing it right to get to Sonnets Bar at eight.
“Let’s see what tonight brings,” she said under her breath when she walked out of the house to make her way towards the bus stop.
Chapter 3
Billy’s mouth twisted into a grimace as he tried and failed to stop the coughing fit. The pain wracking his body made him want to die, but he knew he wouldn’t. He was all too familiar with the agony and coming down from a high was always the same. The hacking cough and dull ache in his chest and head would probably continue until the last vestiges of whatever drugs he had consumed left his system. He lifted a hand to slick greasy hair off his forehead and stared up at the ceiling.
“What fucking time did I get in?” he muttered.
He was in his own bed, so he had managed to make it home although he had absolutely no recollection of doing so. The final memory he could dredge up from the previous evening was of one of his regular stoners buying a twenty bag of weed. He’d then decided to keep the rest of the weed he was supposed to sell for himself. It was a fatal mistake that he made all too often and the rest of the night was lost in a blur of smoking weed and snorting cocaine. He was more than likely drinking as well, which contributed to a drug and alcohol blackout.
He rolled his head to the side and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It took a few seconds for the digital numbers to come into focus and he saw that it was twenty minutes before midday. The thick curtains on the window were closed and kept the room dark, but he couldn’t face getting up to open them. He knew the light would hurt his eyes anyway, so he did no more than sit up in bed and reach for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table.
Inhaling smoke into his lungs gave him another coughing fit, but it passed quickly and the hit of nicotine flooded his veins and soothed the dull ache in his head. The sudden loud ringing made him screw up his face, but he forced himself to get to his feet and follow the sound until he located his phone. He immediately wished he hadn’t when he looked at the screen.
“Ah, shit,” he cursed under his breath and pressed the heel of his hand on his forehead.
He knew what would happen if he didn’t answer it and a visit from one of Eddie Millar’s thugs wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate. The psychotic gangland boss was really the only show in town when it came to being supplied with drugs to sell, but he wasn’t someone to get on the wrong side of. There were too many tales of small-time drug dealers disappearing, never to be seen again and Billy didn’t want to be one of them. He sucked in a breath and pressed a key to answer the call.
“Hey, I was going to get in touch today,” he said in what he hoped was a calm voice.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Billy,” his contact growled. “You were supplied last week and you know the deal.”
“Yeah, payment within a week,” Billy replied and held in the nervous laugh that threatened to come out.
The last thing he wanted was to rile the man on the other end of the line and bring the wrath of Eddie Millar down on his head.
“A week was yesterday,” the contact said. “So you’re late.”
“Yeah, I sold the last of my supply last night,” Billy said. “I’ll get your cut of the money to you today.”
“You better…, if you know what’s good for you,” the man threatened and the line went dead.
Billy moved quickly to where his jacket was hanging on a wall hook. He reached to the inside pocket and unzipped it to get his wallet, but only opened it when he sat down on the bed. Taking out the bills, he quickly tallied up the amount and it confirmed his suspicions. He was short by around ninety dollars and he closed his eyes as he brought a hand up to his face. His drug and drinks binge the previous evening might have been enjoyable at the time, but it now seemed like a bad idea. He racked his brains for someone that might lend him the money and knew that his sister was the best choice. Raising the phone in his hand, he brought her number up on the screen and dialed
it.
“Come on…, come on,” he urged as the ringing went unanswered.
He slammed the phone down on the bed when he gave up. His sister was more than likely lying in bed with her latest boyfriend and the only thing he could think to do was make a visit to her apartment. She would give him the money if she had it, although there was no guarantee that she did.
“Only one way to find out,” he told himself.
Moving through to the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face to try and get himself alert. He then picked up the comb on the edge of the sink to run it through his wet, greasy hair. When he returned to the bedroom, he put on his shoes then went to get his jacket. He saw the smoke swirling up from the cigarette he lit a few minutes earlier and went to pick it out of the ashtray on the bedside table. It was almost burnt down to the butt, but he sucked on it to get the last of the nicotine then stubbed it out. He picked up the pack and a lighter to put it in his pocket and then made his way to the door.
Lifting a hand, he wiped it across his mouth and wished he could go back to bed. The pain wasn’t gone from his body, but the situation he found himself in was urgent and he knew he needed to make a move. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if he didn’t pay the money that day and he inhaled deeply then let the air out slowly. It still ended in a hacking cough and he shook his head as he opened the door to get his day started.
The midday sun was bright when he got to the front of the building and he tried to shade his eyes as he walked down the steps and set off along the sidewalk. There was no one at the bus stop at the end of his street, so he leant his head against the shelter and closed his eyes to wait. The sound of an approaching vehicle made him look and a cold shudder rippled through him.
The dark sedan coming towards him was the trademark vehicle of Eddie Millar’s organization and the burst of adrenaline was strong as he pushed himself away from the bus shelter. His pulse raced as he watched the vehicle slow and come to a stop and he was in two minds about what to do. Instinct took over when the door opened and he bolted without even thinking.
The loud shout of his name panicked him even more and he raced away from the bus stop and ducked in a small alley nearby. He heard the sound of footsteps chasing after him and knew he was in trouble if he got caught. It gave him a spurt of energy to quicken his pace as he ran towards the other end of the alley. He was almost there when a foot slid out from behind a dumpster to catch his ankle. His legs tangled to send him crashing to the ground and he let out a cry as his palms scraped along the concrete. Putting his hands down first did enough to stop him cracking his head on the surface, but it hurt like hell and he knew there was no escape. He turned to see the chasing man approaching and yelped as he was kicked.
“Dirty prick,” the man said in a gasping voice and the anger showed on his face. He stepped forward to aim another kick, but it never landed.
“Enough,” a voice said quietly. “Get the car and bring it around to this end of the alley.”
The man that chased him glared, but did as he was told and turned to head off towards the sedan at the other end of the alley. Billy winced as he tried to cope with the pain of the first kick and was thankful that he avoided another, but he recognized the voice of the man that tripped him and knew it was a bad sign. He kept his gaze lowered, but the silence unnerved him and he needed to fill it.
“How are you, Mr. Holt?”
Lincoln Holt let out a quiet laugh as he stepped closer, but there was no humor in it.
“You’re always polite, Billy,” he said. “I like that about you. I mean, you’re a sniveling, pathetic, waste of space…, but you’re always polite.”
Billy brought his gaze up and an anxious laugh came out unbidden. The man he glanced towards was the top enforcer in Eddie Millar’s criminal organization and that likely meant he was about to be asked about something more than the drugs money he owed. It didn’t stop him blurting out an apology.
“I’m sorry the latest payment is late, Mr. Holt. I’m on my way to sort it out right now.”
Lincoln ignored the comment.
“I knew you would come down this alley,” he said. “The minute I saw you at the bus stop, I was certain of it. I made the boys drop me off, so I could get here then told them to wait a couple of minutes before approaching you. You should never run, Billy. It makes you look guilty of something.”
“I…, well…,”
“And do you know how I was so sure you’d come this way?” Lincoln went on and leant down.
He reached in his pocket to bring out a flick knife and there was a flash of silver as the blade snapped out into view. Billy’s feet scraped on the concrete as panic lit up in his mind and he shuffled backwards on his butt until he was cowering against the alley wall.
“No, Mr. Holt,” he replied in a fearful voice.
“Because you’re a disgusting rat, Billy,” Lincoln said and laughed. “And rats will always head for narrow, dark passages…, like this alley.”
Lincoln used the tip of the blade to scrape some dirt from under a fingernail then put the knife in his pocket. Billy wasn’t sure if the crack about him being a rat was a joke and let out an anxious guffaw.
“Good one, Mr. Holt,” he said and wished he was anywhere other than sitting in that alley, with the top enforcer of Eddie Millar looming over him. The sense of foreboding was overwhelming and his heartbeat hammered in his chest.
Lincoln Holt didn’t waste his days hunting down small-time drug dealers that owed a week’s worth of money and again the thought that there was something more to the encounter filled Billy’s mind. The only problem was he didn’t know what that would be and he wasn’t being told. The sound of a car coming to a stop caught his attention and he looked towards the end of the alley to see the black sedan. It was another ominous sign that something out of the ordinary was taking place.
“Get up,” Lincoln ordered.
“I really am on my way to pay the money I owe,” Billy bleated as he scrambled up to his feet.
Lincoln stepped closer and a half smile played on his lips.
“No you’re not,” he said. “Get in the car.”
“But…”
The expression hardened on Lincoln’s face and Billy immediately shut his mouth to end his protests. He let out a slow breath when he turned to move towards the end of the alley and the back door of the sedan opened as he approached the vehicle. He moved towards it and ducked down to see the face of the man that chased him down the alley.
“Get in.”
Billy glanced to see Lincoln opening the front passenger door and the impulse to make a break for it flashed through his head. He knew it would be suicide though and rubbed a hand across his chin before stepping forward to get in the car. The driver got the sedan moving when the doors closed and in seconds, it was speeding along the street.
The urge to ask where they were going flitted through Billy’s mind, but he knew the question wouldn’t be welcomed and instead turned his attention out of the window. The streets they passed along were his neighborhood and he recognized every one of them, but they were quickly left behind and they moved on to places he wasn’t so familiar with. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when they moved through the outskirts of town to a more rural setting and he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“We’re not going to see Mr. Millar then.”
“Shut up,” Lincoln said, without even looking.
Billy turned to see the smirk on the face of the man sitting beside him and didn’t like it. He wiped a palm across his brow and was aware of the outbreak of sweat brought on by his growing trepidation. The stories he’d been told of drug dealers disappearing reared up in his mind and he seriously considered opening the door to throw himself out. He knew that doing it would be futile though and rubbed his clammy palms together in his lap as he returned his attention to the scene outside.
He could barely bring himself to watch when the sedan turned off the main highway, then tr
aveled along progressively narrower roads until it was bumping along what was no more than a dirt track. The fear that he was in real trouble filled his mind, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he would be killed because he was a day late with a payment. The vehicle eventually came to a stop on a large concrete hard-standing area.
“Out,” the man sitting beside him said and touched a hand to the butt of the gun tucked below his belt.
It was enough of a warning and Billy couldn’t stop shaking as he opened the car door to get out. He was quickly followed by the three others. The driver brought out a pack of cigarettes to light one and leaned against the side of the sedan, as if he was getting himself settled to watch the action playing out.
Enforcer Page 3