“Look who it is!” came a booming voice and I turned my head, having to stifle a laugh when I saw the man besides us.
“Logan.”
He was bald; shiny, spit-polished bald. He wasn’t so cocky anymore – I bet he wished he had my Rapunzel hair now.
“Didn’t expect you to be here.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it.”
He snagged his lower lip between his teeth and leered at Charlie. Her back stiffened against my hand.
“Who’s this?”
“My girlfriend.” That was all he was getting. I addressed Charlie. “Let’s get a drink.”
I pulled her away from Logan, refusing to give him another second of my time. We collected two plastic cups of wine from the bar in the courtyard bar and I scanned the area.
“We have to be remembered,” I repeated to Charlie, as if it were some kind of mantra.
She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with understanding, her lips wet and inviting from her first sip of cheap, dry white wine.
“What role would you like me to play?”
I raised a brow, astonished. In that moment, I had a taste of the control Charlie had kept from me and I felt euphoric. There was an excitement deep in my belly, preparing me for the thrill of what we were about to do.
“I’m an asshole,” I whispered, easing into character. “I spend too much time at work and you’ve become nothing but a trophy. A pretty little piece I can show off when it suits me.” I grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck and tipped her head back. “You need attention, baby. You crave it. You want to feel loved if only for one night.” With her head angled in the perfect position, I dipped my head and kissed her neck, my tongue marking her with my scent. Marking her as mine. “Explore the room. Scope out the filthy men waiting to exploit your vulnerability. Tease them, make them believe they’ll be worshipping your body. And all the while I want you to think about how it will be my cock that fills you tonight, driving into you until you forget any other man ever existed.”
She parted her lips and a whimper burst from them before she sagged against me and fisted my shirt. I took her wrists and positioned her hands by her sides. Smoothing my shirt out, I looked away in indifference.
“Go,” I ordered. “I want to see you charm them all into submission.”
“Yes, Cut Throat,” she said, her voice dropping intentionally to convey the sadness I knew she’d used on the pathetic fucks I’d felt staring at her since we’d walked in.
Most of said pathetic fucks had bullied me in my vulnerable years. Now, as they all feared the checkpoint of middle age that loomed, creeping ever closer, it was my time to get revenge; give them hope like I had when I thought I’d found friends – right before they mocked me for being the orphan in second hand clothes.
I was going to slash their hopes like they had mine, leaving me lying in the proverbial gutter wondering what I’d done wrong. I finally had the upper hand and I was going to hit them where it hurt most. Their egos.
Charlie swayed her hips as she walked away; it was as much for me as it was for all the men who fixated on her as she sauntered through the centre of the hall. The lights flashed blue and pink on her white dress, bouncing back off and lighting up the room. From across the hall, where a long table of finger food was set up, I saw her first victim preparing to make his move. I tried to ignore the pang of arousal that made its way south at the thought of Charlie with another man, and turned, leaning on the bar to conceal the hard mass that had rapidly filled all vacant space in my pants. I nursed my stale wine and tried to clear my mind of the images of her being ravished by someone else.
Well, shit.
Lifting my gaze to grab the attention of the barman, who must have been a sixth form student, I saw her. It was like a snapshot of the past in the future. There was no doubt that the woman at the other end of the bar was Beth Jones, the sister of my dead best friend. The sister of my obsession. She had the same golden eyes, the same high cheekbones; the same perfect eyebrows that widened her eyes and drew you in without consent. She even had the same dimple when she smiled. Christ. It was like looking into the future and seeing what Skye would look like at my age. Perfect. Beautiful. Made for me.
And then I froze, my hand crinkling the empty plastic cup I held onto for dear life. How the hell was I supposed to approach her? I dug into the archives in my memory, trying to think of a time when we’d spoken. I couldn’t think of anything, and that only filled me with more guilt. Would things have been different if I had met the Jones family earlier? I shook my head and ordered a double whiskey, downing the four finger measure before it touched the bar. I continued to watch Beth with the man who I assumed was her husband. Her eyes briefly met mine and I looked away quickly, scanning the room for Charlie. I spotted her on the other side of the hall, sitting on someone’s lap and dragging a perfectly manicured finger down his cheek.
“Curtis?”
I jumped. Beth was standing next to me and I stared at her in shock. Her sister had the same ability to sneak up on me, catch me off guard…and then shove her hand in my pants and find me instantly hard for her.
Beth recognised me. We had spoken before. How did she remember and I didn’t?
Because the presence of Skye had overwritten the memory of her.
I stared at her blankly, cocking a brow and pretending I didn’t recognise her.
“Beth. Beth Jones? We sat together in Miss Harper’s English class.”
Shit. Now I remembered.
She used to let me copy her notes when I had been sitting hunched in my chair while the boys at the back blew spitballs and bits of eraser at me. Beth had been one of the nice ones.
“I remember. Sorry, Beth. How are you?”
She pulled me in for a hug and I inhaled sharply, searching for a fix. But she didn’t smell like Skye; it was a reminder that I was a million miles away from where I wanted to be.
“I’m good. Thank you. How are you?”
“Not bad. It feels strange being back here.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Her returning smile was tight and she turned to the man waiting for her, calling him over to join us. “This is Jack, my fiancée.”
“Congratulations. When’s the big day?”
Beth’s eyes dropped to her hands that were now knotted in front of her, and her bottom lip wobbled. Jack wrapped his arms around her from behind her and kissed the top of her head.
“We haven’t set one yet. Beth lost her brother-in-law last March.”
I froze.
Brother-in-law? Lost?
“I’m so sorry,” I said, barely able to draw in a breath deep enough to speak. “Let me get you a drink.”
“Bacardi and coke. Thank you.” Beth took a careful breath and composed herself. “What are you doing with yourself now?”
I waved my hand to grab the barman and ordered our drinks, leaving Jack to order his.
“I own a sports management agency. Phoenix Management.”
“A sports management agency?” She smiled sadly. “Are you still fighting?”
“No, I never went pro.” I tried to disguise the stab of pain that hit me when the memory of Ollie ploughed into me. “I prefer the business side of things. What about you?”
“We work in property.”
“That’s how you met?”
“Yeah, we were fighting for the same client and decided to head it together. We haven’t looked back since, have we, babe?”
“Definitely not.” Jack handed us our drinks and I passed the money to the barman.
“That’ll be a great story for the grandkids.”
They both laughed and shared a look of contentment. I was still reeling from the lost brother-in-law thing, and wondering how I could find out more.
Beth looked at her watch. “I have to check on my sister. Are you staying, Curtis?”
“I’ve got to get back to the city, but I’ll try. Here-” I handed her a business card from my wallet. “It would be great
to catch up.”
She smiled sweetly and patted the top of my arm. She gave Jack a chaste kiss and we watched her cross the hall and exit through the main door.
“That last year has been really tough,” Jack said, volunteering the information I thought I’d have to ask for. We moved to some empty seats in the corner and I looked for Charlie; the need to escape and lose myself in her bubbled just beneath the surface. “I think she needed to be here tonight. Go back to a time when things were simpler.”
“What happened?”
Jack took on a solemn expression and shook his head.
“Car accident. Her sister, Skye, and her boyfriend were on their way back from fight night last year-”
“Fight night?” I gasped.
“Yeah, Thomas was working and Skye turned up, spaced out and terrified. They got into a fight on the way home. Totalled the car. Skye was lucky to walk away from it, but Thomas wasn’t so lucky. He died in the hospital shortly after.”
That was the night I’d seen them together. Thomas was dead. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe. I was suffocating. Noticing my silence, Jack continued, “They’ve had a hard life. Both of them. Their parents neglected them when they were young and they lost their brother. He was a fighter, too. They lost contact for almost a decade. Skye refuses to talk about what happened between Oliver’s death – that’s their brother – and meeting Thomas. She’s still grieving.”
I still couldn’t speak. I looked up and saw Charlie with Logan and I snapped, snarling in their direction. I shot up out of the chair.
“Jack, I’m sorry for your loss. I have to go. Tell Beth to call me.”
“Of course.” He stood with me and shook my hand. “It’ll be good for her.”
I nodded a goodbye and shot across the hall to Charlie; I grabbed a handful of hair, ignoring her shrieks of shock.
“We’re going.” I turned to Logan. “Book an appointment next time, and have your chequebook to hand.”
I pulled Charlie from the hall, rejecting her pleas, yanked open the back door of the car and shoved her inside. I was already tearing my trousers open when I hauled myself in after her.
Thirty Four
It was time to wait, again, and it was torture.
How did I deal with torture? By begging for more.
April 29th, 2012
I woke up with a jolt, instantly seeking out the back of my neck to ease the stiffness. It was dark and I was sitting upright on something soft. I blinked, my vision honing in on a dot of yellow light behind some sort of obstruction. I sat higher and realised I was in a car; Charlie’s car. Her driver was in the front seat reading the Financial Times. Go figure.
I groaned, alerting him to my consciousness and he turned around, tossing his paper on the passenger seat. I tucked myself in quickly, grateful that he made eye contact instead of looking at my sticky, limp manhood.
“Where’s Charlie?”
He didn’t answer. “I think it’s time to stop,” he said instead.
“We both know that isn’t going to happen.”
“I think you should make the decision that it will.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, realising I hadn’t before.
“Albert.”
“Look, Albert,” I shifted to get as comfortable as I could, forcing my tired body to cooperate. I stole Jesse’s approach – if Albert worked for Charlie, he worked for me. “You’re paid to drive and to keep your mouth shut. I suggest you stay within the lines of your job role.”
I moved to open the door, my hand stopping still on the handle when the edge in his voice cut through the icy air of night that filled the car.
“It will come to an end, Curtis, one way or another. One of you will snap, or one of you will get caught and the least of your worries will be the amount of money in your bank account.”
“I’ll say it again,” I croaked, my throat dry. I knew what he was saying was true. “Stick to doing what you’re paid to do.”
I opened the door and climbed heavily out of the car, waiting for it to leave. It didn’t. I turned and headed in the direction of the bed and breakfast. I went straight up to our room, pouring myself a drink before I looked at Charlie. She was asleep, evidence of whatever it was that screwed her head up non-existent. I sighed, downing the measure and stripped out of my clothes. I pulled the contents of my pockets out and tossed everything on the dresser; the burner phone lit up, altering me to a text I’d gotten an hour ago, while I was passed out in the car. I unlocked the screen and read the message from Jesse.
‘It’s done’
Relief filled me and brought a new feeling of dread and panic with it. What had been done? What was I supposed to do now?
We couldn’t find anything.”
Jesse poured sugar into his tea and I took a mouthful of mine.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s complex. Whatever the factory is hiding, they’ve got a firewall up to protect it. They’re bloody good at hiding. We found stock records, accounts ledgers, you name it. Everything on the surface looked fine, but those folder numbers you gave me are protected better than legit business records.”
“You couldn’t get into them?”
He shook his head. “’Fraid not. But we tagged them like we did with Shadow. The next time they’re accessed we’ll know how and where from.”
I groaned, and the positivity I’d woken up with this morning evaporated.
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait.”
“For them to open the folders?”
“Yes, my guess is they’re not accessed often.”
“So shouldn’t we keep pushing?”
“No. It’s a virtual stake-out. Pushing and rushing leads to mistakes. If they find out they’re being watched, they’ll wipe the system and we’ll lose everything. We have to be smart about this, Curtis.”
“I know.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I know.”
“Get back to work, get back to the gym and let the guys do their thing.”
“I can't. I can't think of anything else. Not now, not ever.”
“What about Charlie?”
My back stiffened. “What about Charlie?”
“What is it with you two?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged, pretending I didn’t care, but my skin was prickling and had covered itself in goose bumps.
“I’m here if you need to talk about it.”
“I’m good.”
“Alright.” He tapped the table between us. “So we wait?”
I hesitated. I wanted to fight him on it, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t screw this up.
“We wait.”
“Good.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ve got to get back. Are you coming?”
“I’m spending the rest of the week with my aunt. I’ll see you next week.”
“You big old softie.” He slapped my back and I watched him leave.
Christ, I was glad I met him.
***
“Again,” I growled.
I doubled over, letting out a loud grunt. I took a deep breath and stood up straight, backing up to the wall for support.
“Again!”
Another hit in the stomach and my breath escaped in a gust. I sucked in a strangled gasp and looked at Jesse.
“Again.” It was a whisper this time; a breathless plead for more.
He hit me again; a hard punch to the sternum. I cried out in pain but nodded for more. And more.
Jesse had been onto something that day in the gym. Every time I lost my mind, on the verge of storming into the factory or the goddamn hair salon on Baker Street, I called Jesse and he met me at the gym. We didn’t train. We didn’t work out. Jesse beat the shit out of me. It was some sort of voluntary psychological conditioning. Being knocked for six and being left in mind-numbing pain was the only thing that kept me in control.
“Again?” he asked, stepping back to let me breathe.
I knew I couldn’t take much more, but I nodded.
He held the back of my head and gave me one final punch to the stomach that made me see stars and collapse onto my hands and knees, begging him to stop.
Thirty Five
Welcome to Joe’s.
January 2013
“I’ve got an idea.”
I sat back and held the phone tightly to my ear, still aching from the beating I took last night. We hadn’t heard anything – the files hadn’t been accessed. Jesse had put a tracer on Rochelle’s computer but every damn thing that reached it was related to car parts.
“What?”
“There’s this place in Camden called Joe’s. It’s kind of top secret.”
“So how do you know about it?”
“AJ told me. He goes there and seems to think it’s the place I’ll finally learn something,” he scoffed. “He has no idea.”
“What is it, Jesse?”
“Back street fighting.”
“I don’t fight anymore.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He laughed pitifully. “You just get beaten willingly instead.”
“You know the deal.”
“I do. Which is why I’m telling you to go to Joe’s. You need to start fighting back.”
“Jesse.”
“Just trust me. I’m texting you the address. Be there, in gear, at nine. If I'm not there, ask for AJ.”
He didn’t give me a chance to argue; he ended the call and my phone pinged instantly with an address.
I pulled up round the back of an old deserted warehouse and turned the engine off. The cold of winter began to fill the car and cool my burning skin. I wanted to back out but I knew Jesse was right. I had to do something besides signing contracts and taking beatings while I waited for something to pop up on the radar. I took the plunge, opened the door and headed towards the entrance. I banged my fist on the steel door and waited. The door opened and a guy the width of the doorway answered.
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