Though her heart always went out to the unsuspecting, worried parents. All that stress and heartache that they were put through, all because of their child making an often stupid, thoughtless mistake. That’s what galled Nurse Denton the most, that these patients’ critical conditions were self-inflicted. That they were only here because they convinced themselves that nothing bad would ever happen to them. As if they were somehow invincible. How they didn’t even consider the consequences or how much medical care and attention would be needed to nurse them well again. Round-the-clock care that could have been given to more worthy patients: patients that had ended up here through no fault of their own, with real life-threatening conditions. Still, Nurse Denton didn’t voice this opinion, of course. Remaining ever the professional, her only duty now was to care for her patient.
‘She’s been sedated. We’ve intubated and mechanically ventilated her for now, until we can get her stats all back under control.’
‘I don’t know what any of that means? Is she going to be all right? She will be, won’t she?’ Alfie said then. He could feel Jennifer standing next to him, gripping his arm tightly as if to offer him some comfort. To remind him he wasn’t on his own.
‘Mr Harris, your daughter is extremely sick. She’s currently in a coma and being kept alive with the help of a life support machine. We are doing all that we can. She’s in the very best hands.’
‘What about her mate, Amber? Was she brought in too?’ Alfie asked, worried that Megan’s friend would be in a similar state. He hadn’t even thought about Megan’s friend until that point. The two of them were inseparable. If Megan was in a bad way, then Amber might be in a similar state?
‘Amber? I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone of that name. Your daughter was brought in alone, Mr Harris. You’re welcome to speak to the paramedics that were called to the scene but, as far as I’m aware, she was on her own when she was found. A barmaid found her and stayed with her until the paramedics arrived. Is that who you mean?’
Alfie Harris shook his head. Assuming that the nurse was talking about Sherrie Murphy. Fuck knows where Amber had got to then? He clenched his jaw. Why wasn’t she with Megan? They should have been together. The pair of them. Fuck! None of this should even be happening.
‘What the fuck’s that?’ he said then, as an alarm started beeping loudly, screaming out into the room, interrupting his thoughts. ‘What’s happening?’ Alfie’s voice rose in a panic as Nurse Denton hurried around the other side of the bed.
‘It’s okay. I just need to change the IV drip. The alarms are a good thing. They’re letting us know exactly what’s going on at all times.’
Alfie nodded once more. That seemed to be all he could do right now. Nod his head like a gormless idiot. Not knowing what else to do or say.
‘Please tell me that she is going to be all right,’ he repeated. This time his voice was barely a whisper, forcing himself to ask the one question that, now he knew all the details, he suddenly dreaded hearing the answer to. Never in all his days had he experienced such acute fear as he was right now. The thought of Megan slipping away from him. Losing her. He just couldn’t even bear it.
Placing her hand on Mr Harris’s arm, Nurse Denton wanted to offer this man words of reassurance, but she wasn’t prepared to offer any false hope.
Megan Harris was in a very bad way.
There was a chance that she wouldn’t be recovering from this.
‘Mr Harris, your daughter is a very sick girl. The next twenty-four hours are critical. I wish there was something more I could tell you…’ Then trying to help the man to feel at least useful so that he could focus on his daughter instead of his own fears, she nodded to the chair behind him. ‘Take a seat. You can talk to her. She might hear you, you never know. There have been studies to show that sometimes they can… I bet she’d be glad to hear your voice.’ Then looking at the woman who was with him, the nurse added. ‘I’ll get our porter to bring you one, too, if you’d like?’
Jennifer nodded gratefully. She’d barely spoken two words since she’d got here, but what could she say? There were no words. All she could do right now was be here for Alfie.
Watching as he sank down into the chair beside his daughter and gripped Megan’s hand tightly in his own, Jennifer tried to hold back her tears as she heard him speaking so tenderly to his daughter.
‘Megan, baby, it’s your dad. I know you can hear me, darling. I love you, Megs. You’re going to be just fine. You’re going to fight this all the way, Megs, because you’re strong, eh, just like your old man.’
He was crying now. Big fat tears, cascading down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with each wracking sob as he spoke. As he said the words that even he was finding impossible to believe.
What if Megan doesn’t make it? What if she dies? His daughter was all he had in this world. She was the only person that really meant anything to him.
He’d raised her single-handedly from a small baby, after he’d caught her skank of a mother cheating on him with one of his best mates. Alfie had thrown the woman out and dedicated his life to making sure that his daughter never went without anything again. It had been hard, at times, especially in Alfie’s line of work. Wheeling and dealing in all sorts of dodgy business over the years. Associating with lots of unfavourable characters, and all the while trying to bring his daughter up in the best way possible.
To be kind and decent. To not have to struggle the way Alfie had at her age.
That’s why he’d been so made up when The Karma Club had taken off just a few months ago. Finally, after all these years he could go legit. No more dodgy dealings and now he’d decided no more drugs either. Though it appeared he’d made that decision much too late.
His beautiful girl.
He was guilty of a lot of things. Being overbearing and strict as fuck with her, but he’d only ever been that way because he knew that the world was full of bad people. Evil fuckers that would hurt you in the blink of an eye if there was some kind of gain to be made for them. And now his deepest fears had finally been realised.
Megan had been hurt. Badly.
All those years of trying to protect his daughter and keep her away from people who might harm her, and the irony was that she’d found her way to trouble anyway. In his very own nightclub of all places. His daughter had taken drugs from people that Alfie Harris probably fucking knew. People that were probably on his fucking payroll. When he found out who, somebody was going to pay the highest price for their actions tonight.
Taking a deep breath then, Alfie wiped his tears away, and tried to pull himself together. If Megan could hear him then he needed to stay strong. To stay in control.
‘Your dad’s here, Megs. So when you’re ready, you just open those pretty blue eyes of yours. I’ve got you, Megs. Do you hear me? I’ve got you.’
When this was all over, when his Megan was okay again, Alfie Harris was going to cause fucking murders over this.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Joop’s Gentleman’s Club in Soho was buzzing as per usual for the weekend. Full to capacity, packed with wall-to-wall buff males every direction he looked, Ross Nicolson was in his absolute element. This was what he deemed as a perfect Saturday night. It was all in an evening’s work for him. Electric. Soaking up the atmosphere while he served all his fancy cocktails and flirted with all the punters.
The busier the bar was, the better. It meant more tips for him and, of course, it meant more options for him too. He could have his pick of the men in here, no doubt; his only dilemma was willing it down to just one contender. Hmm, who was he going to let take him home and fuck him tonight, he thought with a grin.
Eeny, meeny, miny mo.
Catching the eye of the tall dark stranger sitting in the corner of the room, alone in a booth, Ross had already found tonight’s lucky partaker. This was the third Saturday in a row that the man had been in here. Choosing to sit on his own in the same spot, drinking the same drink too. A Jack and Coke, man. Simple, no fuss.
Dark and mysterious-looking, a bit moody too.
The man had a real pull about him that Ross just couldn’t resist. As if there was something intense about him, dangerous even. And judging by the many advances this man was receiving from all the other men around him, Ross wasn’t the only one who felt the attraction.
Only, the man was acting as if he wasn’t interested. Politely declining the many offers he received of people wanting to join him, making out that he preferred his own company. The entire time, seemingly unable to keep his eyes off Ross. Which, in turn, only stirred something deep within him.
Lust, desire, the need of a good hard fuck? Ross didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t care; all he did know for sure was that this bloke wanted him badly, he could tell.
’Course he did; how could he resist Ross’s charms? Good-looking, fit and funny. He was vain as fuck too, but hey, who’s perfect?
Grinning triumphantly to himself, Ross decided he was going to reel this bloke in. Playing hard to get probably drove his sort wild, seeing as men were literally throwing themselves at him, and there was nothing like a bit of healthy competition to spice things up a bit. Waiting for the perfect opportunity, for the man to look his way, Ross quickly turned his attention on the customer in front of him.
‘You know what you need to try?’ Ross said playfully. Leaning over the bar to the awaiting customer and rubbing the man’s arm. ‘Sex On The Bar. It’s one of my specialties.’
‘Is that so? Well, seeing as you insist.’ The man laughed then, only too happy to allow the young, hot barman to make him one of his ‘special’ cocktails.
‘Oh. I do insist indeed.’
Ross got to work then pouring several different shots of alcohol into the cocktail shaker, before adding some fruit juice and ice. The entire time he could feel the man at the back of the room. Watching him. And it was turning Ross on.
Sugaring the glass he poured the finished mixture in and slid it over the bar towards the man, along with a playful wink.
‘You lick the rim first then you swallow it down whole,’ he said brazenly, watching as the man eagerly did as he was told. Picking up the glass, he ran his tongue around the edge, his eyes on Ross the entire time before knocking it back in one.
‘How was that?’ Ross said, knowing full well that he could have served up this bloke a glass of cold piss and he’d still salivate over it. ‘Orgasmic, huh?’
‘That was something else,’ the man said, handing over a twenty pound note and telling Ross to keep the change. His clammy hand lingering over Ross’s. Letting Ross know in no uncertain terms that he was on to a sure thing.
Ross smiled.
Searching the back of the room again, hoping that the man was still watching him, Ross couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he noticed the empty booth now.
His glass discarded on the table. Half empty.
The man had gone.
Shit!
Ross wondered if he’d played it all wrong. Maybe the guy was the jealous type.
Oh, well, fuck it. You win some you lose some, Ross thought, knowing the punter in front of him was a sure thing. He believed in having fun. Pure, unadulterated, kinky-as-fuck fun. And lucky for him there was no shortage of willing participants. He may have lost out on one main prize tonight, but there were plenty more where that one came from.
‘Tell you what, Jerry. Why don’t you get off? I can clean up here. Go on, it’s been a long night mate,’ Ross Nicolson said, hoping his boss would take him up on his offer so that he could stay back and have a couple of cheeky drinks on the house.
About to protest, to Ross’s surprise, Jeremy Cooper nodded with gratitude. They had an event in here in the morning. A private function. Some fancy book launch that a local author was throwing. He could do with getting his head down, before he came back in tomorrow morning and started all of this over again.
‘Okay. If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Ushering the man out of the bar before he could change his mind, Ross bid him good night before coming back into the bar and heading straight over to the optics.
Pouring himself a double vodka, neat with ice, he walked over to the booth and took a seat. Enjoying the silence as he drank his drink back in just a few mouthfuls. Glad of the peace and quiet as he sat there, looking about the place. The bar seemed so different at night, like this. When there was no one else around.
The rustic wooden floors, and leather studded booth seating. It had a library feel about it, he thought with a smirk. All they needed was some bookshelves. It was tired and dated-looking, but then it also felt homely and he guessed that’s why the place had such appeal. The men that came felt comfortable here. A place where they could be exactly who they really were without having to pretend otherwise.
Ross knew all about that. He was a pro at hiding his sexuality from his family. Knowing only too well that none of them would accept it. Which is why he was so outrageously camp when he worked here. Flirting and showing an interest in any man with a pulse. It was all just a game to Ross. A way of getting out his truth that he’d been forced to compress inside him.
Fucking families.
His were the reason he’d moved here, to London, to get away from the lot of them.
Debating on having another drink, Ross decided he couldn’t be arsed now. He’d put himself in a bad mood. He was just going to lock up and bugger off home.
Cleaning down the bar top, he remembered to check the toilets before he left and make sure that there were no unsuspecting buggers hiding out in there, getting their end away. Ross had well and truly learned his lesson last time when he’d inadvertently locked two fellas in the pub one night. Turning up in the morning to find two half-naked men curled up on the floor together. Both of them completely off their faces from drinking their way through his entire optics in his absence.
Tonight though, as he pushed back each of the cubicle doors, he was pleased to confirm that the toilets were indeed empty.
Grabbing his coat and the keys from the side as he made his way back through the bar, he heard the main door go.
‘Jerry! For God’s sake, I told you to go home. I’m capable of locking up, you know. You don’t need to check up on me!’
Only, Ross stopped in his tracks then, as he reached the front of the bar and saw that it wasn’t Jerry. It was the man from earlier.
The tall, dark, handsome stranger that Ross hadn’t yet had the opportunity to properly talk to. Resigned to going home on his own and settling for a takeaway and quick wank, suddenly Ross’s night was looking up.
‘Fuck man! You scared the crap out of me.’
The man didn’t speak. Instead he sat down in the booth, and slid back in the chair, making himself comfortable.
Ross grinned. This was good. The man had come back. For him.
‘You want a drink? Jack and Coke, right?’ Keen to impress the man, Ross poured out a double measure, and one for himself, too, before taking a seat opposite the guy.
Intrigued now.
‘I saw you earlier,’ Ross said, trying to engage the man in some kind of conversation, though he didn’t seem very receptive.
Still not speaking, instead he gulped down his drink in one. His eyes not leaving Ross’s.
Perhaps he was shy? Maybe he wanted Ross to take the lead. He’d clearly come back here for a reason, and Ross was going to make sure that he wasn’t disappointed.
Walking over to the door, Ross locked it behind them. Then walking back over to the man, he stood in front of him. Over him. Taking the glass out of his hand.
The man didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.
Taking that as some form of encouragement Ross dropped to his knees in front of him. Unbuttoning the man’s trousers. His fingers fumbling clumsily over the button. Fuck! He hadn’t felt this excited since he’d first lost his virginity.
Blokes normally made it too
easy for him. Throwing themselves at him.
And normally Ross just went along with it. Fucking the men and pretending that they did it for him, when half the time they probably didn’t even know how to do it for themselves.
But there was something about this bloke that was so different to all the others. He had an air of such mystery about him. As if there was so much more than met the eye. He looked a bit menacing too. Sat there, acting all cold and distant. Even now, as Ross took him in his mouth greedily, he wasn’t giving anything away.
Though it wouldn’t be long until Ross got some reaction out of him.
Shit. He didn’t even ask the man’s name, he thought then, feeling seriously turned on by the encounter.
This is what really did it for him.
No pretence. None of this getting to know each other bullshit.
Just hard, raw, passionate sex.
Ross could barely contain himself. Increasing the intensity of his mouth over the man’s rock hard form, he could feel the man bucking beneath him. Enjoying Ross’s well-honed skills, before a few seconds later he shuddered violently. Releasing himself.
Falling back on to the floor, Ross grinned triumphantly.
‘Well, that didn’t take long,’ he quipped, though he recognised the want and urgency that had been between them both. That rare animal magnetism.
Ross undid his own trousers then, hoping that it was his turn next.
Only the man’s mood had changed now, as he got to his feet. Still cold and detached, there was something else that flashed in his eyes.
Confusion? Disgust?
Staring down at Ross with a twisted look on his face.
‘Hey, come on, man. I thought you wanted to have some fun?’ Ross said, feeling used now. ‘You not going to repay the favour?’
The last thing Ross had been expecting was a punch to the side of his head. The force of the blow knocking him to the floor. Dazed and confused. Wondering what the fuck he’d done to deserve that, Ross tried to get up but the man just kept coming at him. Kicking him and punching him.
The Broken_A gripping thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat Page 20