by Edie Baylis
He hadn’t even been able to get off after that either. He’d wanted to see her pain, but she hadn’t shown enough and it had fucking irritated him. In fact, everything irritated him.
Seeing Marie turn into an alley, Ben told the taxi driver to stop. The guy probably already thought he was some sort of pervert for asking to stop down the road and then move up fifty yards again and again for the last mile, but this was important. He frowned. Wasn’t that the side entrance to a strip club?
Ben glanced up at the façade of the building and saw he was right. It was the very snazzy-looking Glint club with its line of impeccably dressed doormen and host of beautiful girls. A classy joint.
Ben felt his cock stir. So that’s what she was doing then? A stripper or a pole dancer or whatever they called themselves. He smiled to himself and instructed the driver to carry on.
As soon as he got his teeth fixed he’d be paying that place a visit. The prospect of watching Marie writhe around a pole was just what he needed. Now he knew where she was he’d be able to speak to her afterwards as well.
CHARLIE GLANCED OVER his shoulder in the phone box as the call connected. He couldn’t risk going to the Glint in person because he was sure Carter had sussed out he was a cuckoo in the nest.
Finally getting through to Sheila, who at least had enough sense to realise speaking to Bill was important, she put him through.
Tapping his fingers against the side of the payphone hearing it ring out consistently, Charlie glanced at the diminishing credit on the screen and hurriedly shoved another fifty pence in the meter. Come on Bill, fucking pick up. He had to warn him quickly. This shit was due to kick off tomorrow. He hadn’t got long and certainly didn’t want to arouse Carter’s suspicions by disappearing for ages.
“Yes,” came Bill’s gruff voice on the other end of the line.
“Bill?” Charlie muttered with relief. “It’s Charlie. I’ve only got a few minutes. Listen, Carter’s livid!” Hearing Bill chuckle from the other end, he sighed. “No seriously, he’s arranged for the Glint to be firebombed tomorrow night.”
“Has he now?” Bill’s voice adopted a caustic edge.
“He’s told me and a geezer called Brian to carry it out.” Charlie felt a trickle of sweat run from his neck down between his shoulder blades and hoped Bill knew he was on his side and not Carter’s.
“And what have you said?”
“What was I supposed to say Bill? I’ve had to go along with it otherwise my cover would be blown.”
Bill thought for a moment. Until he’d completely obliterated Carter he still needed the inside knowledge Charlie could bring, but as for this Brian, well he didn’t give a shit. “You’ll have to go ahead with it as planned, won’t you,” he said in a clipped tone.
“What? You want me to firebomb your club?” Charlie said astounded.
“Don’t be a bloody idiot, Charlie,” Bill snapped. “I want you to go through the motions, but of course you understand you’ll be intercepted.”
Charlie could almost see Bill rolling his eyes in frustration. “What will you do to us?”
“I won’t be doing anything to you, but I want you to get that Jim and the other guy in the know and they can do it.”
“W-What?” Charlie nearly choked. He’d got to tell Dan and Jim to fuck him up?
Bill chuckled hearing the panic in Charlie’s voice. “They’ll need to rough you up believably enough otherwise, you’re right, you’ll blow your cover, but by all means tell them to go easy on you. As long as it looks believable it’s fine.”
Charlie let out a short sigh of relief. He didn’t even want a ‘small’ pasting, especially off Jim, but understood the reasoning. “What about Brian?”
“He’s one of Carter’s boys through and through,” Bill snarled, “but we’ve got to keep it the same, otherwise it will stink of rat, so he’ll get off lightly too. For now...”
Charlie nodded. “I’ve got to go now. I’ve only escaped from Carter’s place on the pretext of getting him more whisky from the corner shop.”
“What time is this set for tomorrow?”
“9pm is the off. Just as the show starts,” Charlie muttered, knowing that information would rile Bill further.
“That cunt will seriously pay for this Charlie. I’m sorry you’re going to get hurt in the process, but needs must,” Bill spoke quietly. “It will all be done and dusted for good soon and then you won’t have to sneak about.”
Charlie nodded even though he knew Bill couldn’t see him. “I hope there’s a full time job for me with you when this is all finished Bill?” He may as well ask. It wasn’t like he had much to lose these days.
Bill had no intention of giving Charlie a job. Even though he hated Carter, he didn’t appreciate Charlie was selling the man up the river and therefore could easily do the same to him. No, he’d get what he needed and then get rid of this greedy two-faced prat.
He’d already decided he’d be dealing directly with this Jim character and from now on Charlie would be left out of the loop completely. “It all depends how well you pull all of this off doesn’t it?” The trace of amusement was clear in Bill’s voice. “Now make sure you fill in Jim and the other bloke.”
“Dan. The other one’s Dan.”
“Whatever, but get Jim for sure.”
Charlie was about to confirm he’d understood, when he realised Bill had already put the phone down.
BILL SAT BACK IN HIS leather chair and stared at the receiver he’d placed back on the handset. So that was the slimy fucker’s plan was it? The cheeky bastard. The sooner he could offload that twat Carter, the better.
He’d been planning to play a bit more cat and mouse with the jumped up prick, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. Not now he thought he could pull a fucking stunt like this. The haggard old ponce must have rocks in his head if he actually thought he could get away with it.
Firebomb his club at show time eh? To cause the maximum damage and fuck up his trade for God knew how long? Not to mention he could hurt his girls. Including Marie. Or Sheila.
Feeling rage building incessantly from the base of his being, Bill angrily slammed his crystal tumbler down on the surface of his desk. How he’d love to walk round there right now and blow the fuckhead’s face clean off his neck, but he’d have to refrain and do this properly. He’d phone Phil and let him know the timeframes would have to be brought forward several weeks.
Pouring himself another large whisky, Bill retrieved a new cigar from his wooden box.
He had hardly believed it when Phil phoned last week to say they’d got the designated contact with their main man and it had turned out the guy had already done a job for him.
The man his son trusted to remove Ernie fucking Carter off the face of the planet for him was none other than Jim, or Seth as apparently he was once known.
Bill smiled. The world was certainly a small place. When this Jim, Seth or whatever his name was had finished sorting out this shit tomorrow night he’d call him in for a proper chat.
TWENTY EIGHT
ELIZA MADE HER WAY down the road, careful not to get her five-inch stilettos caught between any cracks in the paving slabs. Flicking her hair back she smiled to herself. She was taking matters into her own hands now and wasn’t waiting around anymore.
Rounding the corner to the Glint Club, she grinned seeing the pristine front of the black-painted club with its myriad of lights and professional signage. She mentally compared the shabby and cheap exterior of Crystals in comparison to this place and cringed. There really was no contest. She had to get her foot in the door here.
Seeing the burly doorman’s eyes fixed on her as she approached, Eliza turned up the wiggle in her walk, knowing she should push her shapely curves to her advantage as much as possible.
Reaching the door, she took in the big muscles of the black-suited man and smiled provocatively. “Hi,” she purred, slowly trailing her heavily made-up eyes up appreciatively from the man’s groin to his s
quare jaw. “You must be Barry?”
“Can I help you?” Barry asked brusquely, but politely in his deep gravelly voice.
Even the bouncer was a worthy shag, Eliza thought happily. If he was fit then it stood to reason all the men associated with this place would be too. “Chantal said I should have a word with Sheila or the new lady?” She paused suggestively. “About a job?”
Barry looked Eliza up and down, accepting she was a decent looking bird and if Chantal suggested she should come? “Ok, I’ll see if either of them have time for a quick chat.”
Holding the door open, Barry let Eliza into the foyer whilst peering at a car pulling up containing several men. “Tom,” he called through the door to the cloakroom attendant. “Can you show this lady up to the office? She’s come about a job. Be quick though, people are arriving.”
Nodding, Tom hastily ushered Eliza through a thick wooden door out of the plushly-carpeted reception to a staircase.
NATALIE EYED SHELLEY silently. She’d been surprised when she’d turned up at her house unannounced. Shelley had been different lately and Natalie had, in all truthfulness been a bit miffed. They had been as thick as thieves for the past couple of years, but the last few months since she’d become heavily involved back with Ben she’d become strange and secretive.
Eventually she’d given up asking her out for drinks and trying to call for a chat. Even at work Shelley had avoided her at every possible opportunity and she didn’t like it one iota.
Ben had royally lost the plot. Everyone knew it, but no one liked to say. It was common knowledge he’d be getting the sack soon if he didn’t up his game. From being one of the best and most popular guys in the office, he’d diminished into a bit of a mess.
Natalie screwed her nose up contemptuously thinking how Ben’s film-star good looks were gradually morphing into something that wasn’t doing him any favours at all.
She’d asked Shelley just how much shit Ben was doing, but she’d clammed up and instantly changed the subject. It would have been impossible to stop the old Shelley from spilling the beans over anything, but not these days and Natalie was becoming increasingly worried. Something had been horribly wrong for a while, but she needed her friend to level with her. It had to be something to do with Ben.
Shelley obviously didn’t think she’d noticed the constant bruises and marks she’d cleverly tried to conceal. Maybe no one else had noticed them, but she had.
Natalie knew Shelley too well for her to pull the wool over her eyes that easily and just hoped she wasn’t becoming a secret junkie like she suspected Ben had. Or that he was hurting her or something. Shelley would never have stood for any of that shit, but that was the old Shelley, not this weird new version.
Natalie eyed her friend staring blankly ahead of her while continuously turning the stem of her wine glass around between her fingers. She clocked more marks - this time around Shelley’s neck that yet again had been attempted to cover over with expensive concealer.
“No Ben tonight?” Natalie asked, moving to fill up Shelley’s wine from the bottle and trying to instigate some form of conversation. Seeing Shelley’s bottom lip tremble slightly at the question, she placed her hand on Shelley’s leg. “Babe, what the fuck’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Shelley smiled falsely. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
Was she kidding? “You just haven’t seemed yourself lately. Well, for a while actually...” It was no use. The softly-softly approach wasn’t working and Natalie wasn’t prepared to wait any longer. “You’ve been treating me like an alien for ages, so either I’ve done something to upset you or he has.”
Shelley’s eyes flicked around as she tried to think of a suitable response.
“Is Ben hurting you?”
Shelley laughed shallowly. “Me? Come on Nat! You really think I’d let a man hurt me?”
The old you wouldn’t have, Natalie thought, her anger already simmering, but she needed to keep her opinions under wraps. Shelley would clam up otherwise. “Yeah, but it’s not just someone is it? It’s your Ben.”
Just the mention of Ben being ‘hers’ pushed Shelley over the edge and tears brimmed. “But is he?”
Natalie studied Shelley carefully. “What do you mean?”
Shelley took a gulp from her wine glass, her fingers visibly shaking.
She desperately needed to unburden everything onto someone, but she wasn’t sure whether she would be able to stop herself once she’d started. Her emotions were like a roller coaster and she tried to stop the tears fast threatening to run down her face in a deluge.
How could she possibly admit everything to Natalie and tell her she’d been putting up with Ben’s ongoing fascination with Marie? That she was allowing him to treat her so fucking badly because she was so desperate to keep him.
How could she tell her that she’d let Ben do all manner of things to her. She’d allowed him to hurt her and all sorts just so she could pretend, if only for a short while, that he was in love with her rather than someone else?
“Shelley, I asked you what you meant? Is it Ben who’s causing all these bruises?” Just by the glimpse of panic darting across Shelley’s face, Natalie knew she’d been right.
“It’s not what you think. He’s just very rampant in the sack and sometimes gets carried away,” Shelley laughed, trying to downplay it. How on earth could she expect Natalie to understand that Ben got off on knocking her around? Every time he choked her, slapped her or fucked her with a bottle, he gave her his full attention.
She’d found it quite a turn on when he’d become over-controlling at first, but when his verbal demands and soft slaps had turned into punches, kicks, bites and God knows what else, it had become uncomfortable, both physically and mentally.
Shelley also didn’t want to admit Ben’s drinking and drug taking had escalated past all control and that she didn’t know what to do anymore.
Natalie eyed her suspiciously. “What you mean he knocks you around in bed?”
Shelley tried to smile. “It’s just role play, Nat. It’s good fun,” she lied.
“Doesn’t look good to me.” Natalie sighed, not believing a word of it. The guy was a fucking mess and he was taking her best mate’s soul and confidence. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”
As tears rolled uncontrollably down her face, Shelley realised her pathetic cover had been blown. “I-I don’t know him anymore, Nat.”
Natalie poured more wine in Shelley’s glass and sighed. “He’s got big problems right?” She was desperately trying to contain her temper, but she wanted to wring Ben’s fucking neck.
Shelley nodded and gulped at the wine. “I love him, Natalie. Really love him. I know, I know, it’s not like me, but I love him.”
She didn’t love when she’d returned from the off licence last night to see him in the window of her flat. In full view of the entire street he’d been stark naked, his cock in his hand and working himself hard.
Entering the flat, she’d stared uncomprehendingly at him, aware he was so off it he’d hardly registered her presence, nor cared. When she’d spoken his name he’d finally turned around, sweat running down his face and naked body and pushed her to the floor.
Sitting astride her, he’d held her down by her hair and with his throbbing cock an inch from her face, he’d continued to work his fist up and down his length so hard she’d been surprised he hadn’t torn his own skin.
“Lick me,” Ben had growled, his fist working harder and slamming into her nose with each stroke.
Blood had streamed out of Shelley’s nostrils when Ben’s fist had got faster, his breathing turning into loud grunts. Worse than the pain in her nose was when he began continuously gasping Marie’s name, finally shouting it in a long drawn-out howl as he came violently in her face.
His semen had mixed with the blood flowing from her nostrils and he’d staggered to his feet. Without even glancing at her he’d picked up a new can of lager and slumped down
on the sofa to roll another joint.
Natalie watched the fleeting emotions running over Shelley’s face and knew it was a lot, lot worse than she was letting on. She moved closer and placed her arm around her friend’s trembling shoulders, pulling her towards her when she began sobbing in true earnest. Jesus Christ. What had that bastard done to her?
Natalie took a deep breath and held Shelley at arm’s length so she could look into her eyes. “I don’t know what he’s really done to you that you’re not telling me babe and regardless of whether you think you love him or not, you’ve got to get rid of him.”
“Whether I think I love him?” Shelley snapped, snot running out of her nose. “I know I love him.”
Natalie scowled. “Babe, whatever. You’ve got to leave him.”
Shelley burst into even louder sobs. “I can’t.”
Natalie pulled her back into her arms. “Why not? Of course you can. You can’t go on like this.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I know you love him, but you’ll get over it in time and then we can get back to normal. Forget Ben ever happened.”
Shelley pulled back from Natalie and looked at her. She may as well tell her. She needed to tell someone even if she had to keep the rest quiet. “I can’t get back to normal, Natalie. I’m pregnant.”
SHEILA SAT AT THE DESK in her office and twiddled a pen around in her fingers. Her forehead creased with deep lines as her brain ran overtime.
She couldn’t concentrate properly for several reasons. When Bill had called her up to his office last night she hadn’t thought too much of it. After all he usually briefed her on what was planned for the week ahead – keeping her up to date with the latest plans for the club or any developments, including anything else on the cards.
It was also the time when she’d run past him any concerns she had regarding the girls or ideas she had for the club. Either that or they’d just have a general chat. He’d confide in her all of his personal stuff, like his wife or anything else they felt like discussing. They’d always have a few drinks and put the world to rights.