Rotten to the Core

by Casey Kelleher

  Kate had decided not to tell Jay about the interview yet, as she wasn’t holding out much hope of getting it, but she was sure that he would be made up for her if she did get it. He would be pleased that she could pay her own way. Sonia had insisted that she needn’t worry about paying rent while she lived there, and Kate had decided to earn her keep and help out around the house, washing dishes, doing the laundry, whatever needed doing, it was the least that she could do.

  Kate had never realised how lazy Jay was; most days he laid in bed until midday, then he would slob about for a couple of hours, drinking strong coffee and chain smoking, despite her asking him to stop because of the baby. Then from about three o’clock most afternoons he was gone, “doing business,” he would vaguely add when asked, and Kate rarely saw him again until the early hours when he crawled into bed next to her.

  Things needed to change; this wasn’t how Kate had seen her and her baby’s future, and fingers crossed if she did get this little job, things would be better for them all. Maybe she would treat Jay to something with her first pay to show him that she really loved him. Once they were back on track things would be fine.

  Feeling better, Kate picked up her bag and made her way to the interview; she was going to arrive a few minutes early, to show willing, she had loads of time to get there; besides, Goldie’s nightclub was only a few streets away.

  16

  Opening her eyes, Emma looked around the room. Had he gone? The bedroom door was open, and she couldn’t hear anything in the house. Relief washed over her; he had gone, thank God. Emma was aching all over, her head was pounding and she felt as if she had been run over by a truck. Emma rolled over on her bed and tried to sit up but pain seared through her. Reaching over to her side table, she saw the fifty pound note on the side; biting her lip to stop the tremble, she couldn’t help but feel the insult. She reached down to the drawer in the table and took out her little bag of gear and struggled to keep from crying, it was almost empty. Snorting the contents and laying back against the stale, grey sheets, she felt the drug run through her body, helping to block out the last few hours of torture she had to endure.

  Last night had been a bad one, a fucking bad one. The guy Jay had sent had been a nutcase, a proper loon. He had tied her up to start with, using black masking tape, and at first she had made a few light-hearted jokes about him being kinky, but he had breathed really heavily and stared at her, hate gleaming from his eyes. She’d started to get scared then, asked him to untie her, told him that this was not how she did things. But he had bound her even tighter. She had begged him, but he had just covered her mouth with the tape too. He had whispered in her ear, while he gagged her that she was a dirty slag and he was going to teach her a lesson. After dozens of punches, he grabbed her so tightly around the throat that Emma passed out, and then he brutally took her while she was out cold. She was sore beyond belief, looking down at her top she saw that it was torn almost in half and winced at the sight of one exposed breast, covered in bite marks and bruises.

  He hadn’t looked odd when Emma had first let him in. He had said his name was Alan. At first, he had been very quiet, and on first impressions, Emma would have had him done as some sort of nerdy train spotter. Guess you never can tell about people on looks alone. She rubbed the red marks on her wrists; the binding had been so tight. She had never been so scared. The reality of her ordeal was sinking in; he could have killed her. But then to leave money, Emma couldn’t believe it. He had paid to rape her. And somewhere in her mind, to leave only fifty pounds was an added insult.

  Emma was out of her depth. God knows what she would do next. She couldn’t work out how she had let it get this far. One minute she was in bed with Jay, thinking that she had a chance with him and doing her upmost to please him, the next thing she knew, Jay was persuading her to “entertain” one of his wealthy “friends”. Jay had made it sound glamorous. He said that he had “friends” who would pay good money for Emma’s company, “friends” who wanted someone young and eager like Emma. Not only would she make lots of cash, but he promised that he would keep her in a constant supply of coke.

  The first time it had actually gone quite well, it was a businessman from the USA, he was gorgeous, loaded, and in fifteen minutes Emma had earned two hundred pounds. He hadn’t really spoken to her, he had just got what he wanted and left. Not the most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had but definitely the quickest money she’d ever made, and with the guy being so good looking it was hardly a chore. Jay had given her a big bag of gear as a thank you and told her there was more where that had come from. It had seemed so easy. Emma thought that she could handle it, and that with Jay by her side she would be okay. That was the plan, anyway; the reality was far from that.

  Jay had sent her some real weirdoes lately, lots of them. She had told him that she wasn’t doing it anymore. It had been a novelty at first, but she was beginning to feel used and dirty, but Jay wasn’t having any of it, he stopped giving her the gear knowing that she had become totally addicted to it now.

  When she had tried to score coke elsewhere, she had found that it wasn’t the same as Jay’s stuff, it wasn’t as potent; it didn’t give her the hit she craved. So after a bit more persuading from him, she had agreed to see some of his “friends” again, but this time Jay said he would make things easier for her, he’d deal with the money, and arrangements, look out for her, but he would also be taking a cut.

  The condition was that she would have an endless supply of gear and still make good money. She didn’t really feel she had much of a choice; she was desperate to get some decent gear off Jay again, and to feel that buzz once more. She knew what she was doing, knew what she had become, but she didn’t care; all she could think about was getting her next hit. She had no idea that the coke she had become hooked on, was actually China White: a form of heroin, she was completely oblivious.

  Emma had done a bit of speed and a line or two of coke when she was out with mates in clubs, and she had indulged in the odd joint, all pretty harmless. But this stuff was different, she craved it. She felt that she needed it as much as, if not more than, food and water. It was the first thing she thought of when she woke up, and the last thing she thought about when she went to bed. Jay had convinced her that it was well-cut coke, but she had tried coke from some of her more generous clients and nothing compared to the stuff Jay gave her. Emma had her suspicions that it was cut with something else, but no idea that it was heroin that she was now hooked on: he had her right where he needed her.

  Getting up to go to the toilet Emma saw blood trickling down her thigh. Fucking bastard, he really had been rough with her. She had almost passed out from the pain. Feeling totally alone, Emma started to cry. There was nobody who would help her. No point calling the police, how can a prostitute, who’s been paid, have the cheek to cry rape? She knew she needed to go to hospital, God knows what damage this sick bastard had caused.

  Picking up the phone, Emma decided to call Jay. He was supposed to be looking out for her; this would be one mess that he could help her out with. He owes me big time for this one, she thought. He could take her to hospital for starters and she was sure that after what she had to suffer because of him and his dodgy fucking “friends“, he owed her a big bag of gear too. She was going to use this to her advantage. As he picked up the phone, Jay could hardly make out what Emma was saying through her sobs, the last thing she had heard him say was that he would be there in five before he hung up on her. Now she just had to wait.

  17

  Paul Goldie didn’t quite know what to make of his morning, but it had just started to improve, and greatly. For starters, he wasn’t even supposed to be here. Suzy, his promotions manager, was supposed to be here doing all these interviews for him. They had had a good night last night, the place had once again been packed, and Paul knew that his staff had been working extra hard lately, and extra hours, as they were short staffed due to illness.

  The place was making a real name for it
self, he had lots of new faces using the gentlemen’s lounge upstairs and even a few celebrities treating Goldie’s like their local haunt.

  Goldie’s had been mentioned loads on Twitter and had a massive following on Facebook too. As great as it all was, Paul was knackered; he had got home at three thirty this morning, and had only put his head down for a few hours when Suzy had rang him to say she couldn’t come in. Her son was sick, and as Suzy was one of his best workers she would have felt terrible about calling him.

  He had needed to sort some paperwork out anyway, so when he got Suzie’s call he thought that instead of doing a ring around and seeing if he could get one of his senior members of staff to do the interviews, he may as well do them himself: keep an eye on who was being employed.

  They only needed cleaners for the morning, a couple more dancers/hostesses for the gentlemen’s lounge, and two more bar staff. Paul had done a few interviews already this morning, employed a couple of girls who had just starting out dancing: they were pretty and young, and seemed naive, but then they usually all were to begin with. Then they wised up and got shrewd, earning some decent cash. The gentlemen’s lounge was proving to be a real hit, his regulars loved it. He wanted to keep it fresh; get a few more girls up there. A couple of older girls had come about the cleaner’s position; they seemed to be hard workers who said they wanted regular money. Up until about five minutes ago, the morning had been a bit of a chore. Now that had changed. Sipping his coffee, he looked across the table to where Kate was sitting; yes, now things were looking up. She was gorgeous. He looked her up and down once more, taking in the view; she was very classily dressed, Paul had thought that she was here to apply for a dancer or hostess position at first, she had the looks and figure for it, and Paul could see that she would get a lot of attention from the gentlemen, but once he started talking to her, he realised that he had got it wrong. There was an air of innocence about her, not only that, she seemed smart. Kate had come about the cleaning position, which Paul couldn’t understand. She had been speaking for a couple of minutes now and he could tell that this girl had little idea of just how stunning she was.

  “I’m happy to work whatever hours you have going, Mr Goldie, I’m a really reliable worker.” He didn’t doubt that. “You can even put me on a trial or something, see how I get on?”

  Paul smiled and wondered why such a beautiful girl would want to spend her time picking up empty bottles and scrubbing toilets, when she could be out there doing anything she put her mind to. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, Kate, but why exactly do you want to work here? Obviously Goldie’s is a great place to work, though.” He laughed. He didn’t want to say that cleaning was beneath her. “You could do pretty much whatever you wanted,” he added.

  “I just need the money, Mr Goldie.”

  Kate fidgeted in her chair. She had decided against telling him that she was pregnant, she thought that if she could get her foot in the door, she would tell him then, and hopefully by then he would have seen what a great worker she was and would let her keep her job. She really needed a break, and she wasn’t sure how the man sitting opposite her now would respond to her situation; most employers would rather do without the hassle, and then there was health and safety, etc.

  Paul wasn’t convinced that it was all about the money for Kate; there was something not quite right here; she seemed like an intelligent girl, why was she aiming so low? She was so young, didn’t she have greater ambitions?

  “So, do I have the job, Mr Goldie?” Kate interrupted his thoughts.

  Paul made up his mind. The girl intrigued him. “I’m sorry, Kate, I’m afraid that the cleaning position has already been taken.”

  “Oh!” Secretly, she was a little relieved, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

  “But, Kate, there is something else I could offer.” Paul grinned at her, and she could see his laughter lines, which made him more handsome.

  “Oh?” Kate was more than a little surprised, and she was starting to regret coming for the interview now. She hated lying and felt that Paul knew her secret.

  “I need someone to do some of the paperwork… make calls, help organise stuff a little better. I need an assistant.” The more Paul spoke, the more he realised that he could do with things being a bit more organised. There were piles of paperwork and contacts scribbled on bits of paper lying around the office, so many things that he didn’t get round to doing himself. There was just something about Kate that made him want to help; something in her tone that was more determined than desperate. She sounded as if she could do with good luck.

  Kate’s eyes lit up. This was so much more than she could have expected.

  “There is one condition though, Kate, and it is quite an important one,” Paul said seriously.

  Go on, thought Kate; what’s the catch?

  “You must call me Paul; all this Mr Goldie is making me feel really old.” He laughed now, and relieved, Kate laughed too.

  She left shortly afterwards, and Paul was surprised at how grateful Kate had been, she had seemed over the moon at getting the job.

  Paul smiled, feeling very happy all of a sudden. Kate was starting on Monday, so he could leave all his paperwork until then, seeing as he was going to have to find things for her to do. He was still smiling, as he locked up as he left, thinking: if this is how it feels to do a good deed, I should do one more often.

  18

  Jay lost his grip on the sill and fell back down onto the muddy verge beneath him. It was dark now, particularly around the warehouse where there were no street lamps. He got to his feet once more, pulling himself up again to the window. He swung his leg up and this time he was in: fancy having electric gates and fancy alarm systems set up and then going and leaving a window open. Jay tutted; he’s almost invited me in, he laughed, although it was more of a nervous giggle. He knew he had to get in and out quickly, because if Billy or one of his lads turned up he would be dead this time.

  Looking around, he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t really had a plan; he had been getting high with a couple of mates at one of their flats, and on his way home had kind of just stumbled this way. The open window had seemed a sign, enticing him in; too easy, he thought.

  The warehouse was huge. Looking at all the boxes and containers, he could see that the men must be busy. He knew the lads did run a legit business, shipping goods overseas and providing a courier service and storage. But Jay also knew that if he looked hard enough he would find out the not-so legit goings on, then he could play Billy boy at his own game.

  Billy had put the word out on Jay, he had been collecting information on him, but unfortunately for him he had pissed a few people off himself along the way, and not everyone was as loyal as he would have liked to think. Lifting up the lid of a big box, Jay whistled. It was full of what looked like very expensive jewellery. Dipping into the box, he picked up a long gold chain with a butterfly pendant embedded with crystals. Jay put it in his pocket, hoping to get cash for it later. He put the lid back on and then made his way to the office. Jay looked about, impressed. The office was every guy’s dream workplace, decked out with the state of the art gadgets, a big plasma screen on the wall, leather sofas, expensive Macs.

  Jay was envious. There were days when he would be rolling in dough and other days when he had to trawl through shit to get what was owed to him. He had cash stashed away, but nothing that could set him up like this. This was what he wanted. Billy must be rolling in it; his legit business alone must be bringing him and his lads in a fortune. There was a lot about Billy that Jay envied, not that he would admit that to a living soul.

  Billy had had a proper family growing up; he had his lads to back him up, ones that he’d been friends with since he was a boy. You couldn’t buy that kind of loyalty. He had all of this, too. Jay looked out to the warehouse floor once again. It was filled from floor to ceiling with all sorts of things. But most of all, what Jay envied the most was that people feared Billy; respected him. Jay coul
d scare people, he could bribe and blackmail them, threaten and rob them, but that was as far as it went. He was a dealer, and no-one respects a low-life dealer, they feared him but they had no respect for him. People were only nice to Jay when they wanted something, and if he was honest with himself he would admit that he used them too. Even his dad had used him, teaching him all sorts of corrupt stuff, putting him in dangerous situations as a child. His dad hadn’t encouraged him to do well at school, or have a better chance at life in any way, but to act as his own accomplice, and now he was dutifully following in his old man’s footsteps.

  Jay sat down on an office chair and booted up the Mac. He spent the next half an hour going through files, looking for something that Billy had not hidden, but the boy was good and he couldn’t find anything. Billy had what appeared to be a lucrative warehouse. Whistling to himself, as he switched everything off and made sure that everything was exactly as he left it, he made his way back to the window, which was ajar. He would have to come back another time. Jay would stop at nothing until he had it. Let them all think what they like, he thought, because that would be their downfall.

  Reaching up for the window pane above him, Jay was startled as the warehouse lights flickered on, blindingly bright.

  Shit!

  He was too scared to move, physically frozen to the spot.

  “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” a voice bellowed.

  Startled, and feeling his heart beat ten to the dozen in his chest, Jay turned to see who had caught him. Not believing his bad luck, Jay saw Ryan: he was one of Billy’s boys, and the worst one of the lot.

  Then, he realised Ryan had his back to him and was shouting down his phone rather than at Jay.