‘Please, please, don’t make me go. I want to stay with you. I’ll do it, I’ll go to the party, and I won’t complain, I swear. Give me another chance.’
‘I’m all out of chances, Sash.’
Hysterical now, Sasha continued to beg. ‘Please, please—’
‘What’s going on here?’ Franny, her chestnut hair tied up into a ponytail, walked into the car park from the back entrance of the restaurant.
On seeing Franny, Wan dropped hold of Sasha who stood weeping quietly to herself. ‘Go away, Franny, this is nothing to do with you. Just a boyfriend–girlfriend thing.’
Franny raised her eyebrows at the same time as hardening her gaze. She glanced at Sasha who looked distraught. ‘Sash, sweetheart, are you all right? I’ve been thinking about you. I was worried.’
‘I said this is nothing to do with you, so why don’t you turn around and go and find something else to do,’ Wan said.
Franny didn’t move, instead she just stared at Sasha, seeing the dark circles under her eyes, and bringing down her voice, she spoke gently. ‘Please, Sasha, talk to me.’
Standing under the grey London sky, tears came to Sasha’s eyes and she opened her mouth to say something but it was Wan who spoke first as he turned to look at Sasha. ‘Get in the fucking van … Now!’
Without hesitation, Sasha ran and stepped into the Ford transit, leaving Wan to stare at Franny with as much contempt as he could muster. His words snarled out as he pushed her hard in her chest, causing her to take a step back to hold her balance. ‘Don’t ever do that to me again. You hear me? You’re overstepping the line these days. First back in the club and now this.’
Not showing the slightest hint of being intimidated, Franny, standing as tall as Wan, returned his stare and his contempt. ‘All I was doing was asking how she was.’
‘And I’m telling you, not to.’
‘It was only a few hours ago that she watched her friend overdose. What the fuck is wrong with you? The girl’s traumatised,’ said Franny angrily.
Wan held a steady glare. ‘Haven’t you heard the saying, the show must go on?’
Barking out her words and feeling so much hatred towards Wan, Franny shook her head. ‘This ain’t a show though. You can’t expect her to be okay. She’s just a kid and that was her friend, Wan. She watched her friend die after your goon wouldn’t even let her call for the ambulance.’
He shrugged. ‘What can I say?’
Rolling her tongue around her mouth, Franny chuckled nastily. ‘You really are something else. So what should I do, not bother when one of the girls is upset? Not bother when it’s clear that Sasha’s in shock?’
‘That’s exactly right.’
Nodding, Franny felt the surge of anger rush through her. Everything in her wanted to take her gun and shove it down his throat. But instead, she stayed still for a moment, not speaking, not moving, making sure that she was in control of her emotions before she did say anything.
Eventually, with an even tone, she asked, ‘So where are you guys off to, anyway?’
Without warning, Wan slammed his hand around Franny’s throat. ‘Don’t. Ask. Questions.’
Then Wan stomped off towards the van, getting in it before speeding away.
Rubbing her neck, Franny closed her eyes for a moment. Anger, not pain, rushed through her veins. Yes, she’d paid for protection against Harry and Vaughn and yes, she’d had to hand over her shares to Wan and do any bit of dirty work he asked of her, but how long she could put up with it, she didn’t know. If she was going to do anything about it, she needed help.
Pulling out her phone, Franny dialled the ever-familiar number and spoke to the ever-familiar voicemail. ‘Alf, hey, Alfie, it’s me. Call me back. Please. We need to talk. I need to talk.’
Putting the phone back in her pocket, Franny decided that although she’d made some stupid mistakes in her life, none were as stupid as allowing Wan to make an enemy of her.
5
Standing in the bedroom of his friend’s large, luxurious flat situated on the banks of the River Thames, with stunning views of both Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, Alfie Jennings listened to the message from his on-off lover Franny Doyle and, as was his habit, he threw his mobile across the room. The phone crashed against the wall where it fell on the bed, waking up the hooker he’d had his friend send over to him last night.
‘Bloody hell, Alf, what happened to a gentle wake-up kiss?’
‘What happened to a silent whore?’
The hooker, who’d known Alfie for the past ten years, shrugged, clearly not taking offence. ‘What’s ruffled your feathers this morning?’ she said laughing. ‘And for your information, if you want me to keep my mouth shut, it’ll cost you another fifty quid.’
He rolled his eyes at her. ‘Do me a favour, Jan, just shut the fuck up. I’m happy to pay you a bull’s-eye for some peace.’
He sighed and broke open the new bottle of whiskey, pouring it generously into a crystal glass.
‘Alfie, why don’t you come and take some lines with me, relax a little.’
He turned around and stared at Jan. ‘I thought you were going to shut your mouth.’
She shrugged and giggled. ‘You never used to be such a grouch. Come on, let’s have some fun.’
Alfie stared at the cut-up lines of cocaine on the cream Ralph Lauren nightstand. He could almost taste it, almost feel the burn in his nose, and he could almost hear it calling his name. After the last couple of years of indulging to excess, he was trying to knock it on the head. Or at least cut down on it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted and it certainly didn’t help his cause that Jan was noisily snorting it up.
‘Drop me out, Jan, and if I were you and wanted to get paid at all, I’d stop chewing my fucking ear off.’ And with that, Alfie shot one last angry glance at the lines of coke, took a huge swig of whiskey and stepped outside onto the balcony, feeling the drips of water run down his handsome face from where he hadn’t bothered to dry his hair after his shower.
With the cold air somewhat taking away the urge to snort some gear, absentmindedly watching a tugboat on the river, Alfie thought of Franny. In actual fact, she was the only thing he could think of. No matter what he did – even when he was getting his dick sucked by some whore or having a threesome – Franny was the only thing on his mind. And since he’d met her all those years ago, it had always been the same.
In the messages she’d left for him, he could hear the tone in her voice and he knew her well enough to realise that she was struggling. What with, exactly, he wasn’t sure, though from a good source he knew she was somehow caught up with Wan. But he was damned if he was going to come running, playing a knight in shining armour. After all, she had fucked him over. She had fucked everyone over, come to think of it.
Franny had not only set Vaughn up, she had set him up by giving him no alternative than to do her dirty work.
Last year his daughter, Mia, had been kidnapped and he and Franny had gone looking for her and it had taken them down a very dark road. He’d thought that Mia had been taken by a paedophile ring and whilst they’d been searching, they’d come across a little boy who was about to be auctioned off to the worst kind of human beings. Worse still, the boy’s own father had been part of the sale.
And of course, once he knew about the boy there’d been no way he could’ve left the kid; he could never have that on his conscience. But he’d also known the sort of money that the boy was going for, being young and innocent – fresh meat, as they called it – was the sort of money he didn’t have to hand. His business hadn’t been doing great, especially after Franny had taken two million quid of his money. Though he knew that was another story entirely, one he didn’t want to think about now.
The bottom line was he’d needed nearly half a million pounds quickly so, foolishly, he’d gone to Wan’s brother for a loan. A loan that had interest written in blood on it.
He knew that when he’d gone there. He knew that he was putting his life on the line for it when he’d asked Huang, knowing that getting the money was the easy part. The hard part was paying him back in time. But what else could he have done? And looking back, if it meant saving the boy, he would do the same thing all over again.
Afterwards, after it was all over, he’d asked Franny for help. For money to pay Huang back. But she’d pretended her money was untouchable. All tied up in trusts, which she couldn’t access. That had turned out to be bullshit. And he’d found out it was bullshit too late.
In effect, what Franny had done was play him. She’d been desperate for him to do her dirty work, something he wouldn’t normally agree to. But she’d told him that if he did help her she’d somehow help him find the money for Huang.
In truth, she’d already paid off his loan to Huang. Paid it to stop Huang slashing his throat and cutting him up in pieces. Behind his back, she shelled out almost three-quarters of a million pounds to Huang, which had been his original debt of half a million pounds plus the exorbitant amount of interest Huang charged. Though no part of him felt he needed to be grateful; after all she’d only done it to keep him alive.
But not because she loved him. Oh no, he didn’t think that the ice queen was capable of that. She’d kept him alive merely because it was convenient for her. She needed him to get her out of a mess and let’s face it, dead men weren’t much good at that.
Dangling the carrot of helping him with the loan had kept him on his toes, because at one time, he wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve taken his chances with Huang, cos bottom line, that was the business they were in. Kill or be killed. At one time even, he thought he was lucky to get to forty without having had a bullet in his head. But his attitude to all that had changed since he found out he had a daughter. And Franny had known that; she’d known he’d do anything to stay alive, even being her puppet.
So yes, that had given her power over him. Gave her the power of making him think that if he refused her requests she wouldn’t help him, which ultimately meant he was a dead man. So, she’d thrown him a bone and he’d snapped at it like a fucking mug, not knowing that once again Franny was playing him.
She’d even insisted on him trying to set Vaughn up. Not that Vaughn hadn’t deserved it, because after everything they’d been through, for Vaughn to try to bring Franny down was against every rule in their books. Not that he necessarily wanted Vaughn to have a bullet in his head, a punishment gangland style, maybe, but he’d never wanted him dead.
Though he knew as far as Vaughn was concerned, because Alfie had sided with Franny, he and Vaughn were now enemies too.
So no, fucking no, he wasn’t going to go running to help her, he wasn’t going to pick up the pieces cos he’d been fucked over by her too many times, and not only that, he’d also had his heart broken by her too many times. He was best off away from her. She was like a black widow spider; she devoured her mates. So, for all he cared, Franny Doyle could go to hell.
So why, then, was he here in London? Why the fuck had he jumped on a plane and left his daughter with her nanny if he didn’t care? Why, when he’d known she was in trouble despite everything she’d done to him, would he bother to be on hand if she really needed him?
Taking another large sip of his glass of whiskey, Alfie continued to stare at the river, gritting his teeth as he drank it down, not because of the bitter taste – no, it was quality stuff, smooth and velvety – oh no, the only thing that was bitter was him, because he knew only too well why he was here. He knew why he’d come back to London. He loved her. It was as simple as that.
And no matter how much he tried not to love such a manipulative, cold, conniving, heartless bitch, he couldn’t help it. She was under his skin and God, he hated her and loved her in equal measure for it. Though this time loving her wasn’t going to make him go charging in and pick up her pieces.
He was here, in London, without anyone knowing, and that was enough for now. Maybe she’d never know that he’d come. But if she really, really needed him he was close enough. After all, she could hold her own, though ultimately he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her; that was his job and his job alone. Whether he liked it or not, whether he’d tried to break away from her or not, and no matter how many whores he fucked, he was a one-woman man and Franny was his woman.
He was the one who had spent the last few years loving her and hating her, so if anyone was going to kill her, it was him. That was his prerogative. But he couldn’t kill her, no matter how much he wanted to, so that meant no one else could either. That meant if they wanted to kill her, they would have to kill him first.
But for now, he would just wait and watch …
6
Tia heard her husband’s breath before she saw him in the dark of the large, cream-coloured bedroom, and as she felt his touch, she tried to roll away.
‘Stop playing games, Tia. You’re my wife for fuck’s sake.’
Sitting up in bed, Tia switched the bedside lamp on and stared at her husband. Her long, blonde hair tumbling in waves over her shoulder. ‘Let’s have it right, Harry. I’m your wife in name only. I ain’t here cos I want to be – we both know that, so why don’t you just go back to your room and get cosy with my sister.’
Harry’s mouth curled up into a sneer. ‘What do you expect, if you won’t give it out? I’m a man, Tia, and I’ve got needs.’
Raising her eyebrows and wondering what she ever saw in him, Tia snapped angrily, ‘What I expect, Harry, is for you not to screw my twin sister. It’s hardly much to ask, is it?’
‘You make it sound like I forced her. Your sister couldn’t get her knickers off fast enough. She was gagging for it. I was only doing her a favour.’
‘No, Harry, you wanted to play games like you’ve always done. Admit it; you get off on hurting me, don’t you? I mean, when I found out about you and Tammy, you hated the fact that I didn’t kick off and give you the reaction you’d hoped for. So you had to go one better and move her in, didn’t you?’
‘She means nothing to me. I don’t want her, it’s you I want.’
‘You amaze me, you know that? What do you do, Harry, get Tammy to lie there looking like me but saying nothing, so you can pretend she is me? You’re one sick fuck, you know that?’
Grabbing her roughly, Harry slapped Tia hard across the face. She squealed in pain as she felt the blood from her nose trickle into her mouth. With tears in her eyes, she shook her head. ‘Is this why you brought me back, so you can knock me around?’
‘I brought you back cos you wanted to be with your kids and besides, this is where you belong. You ain’t going anywhere, Tia. And if you do, you’ll never see your children again. So, take that miserable look off of your face and get used to it. I love you, Tia. You just got to start behaving, that’s all.’ He leant in for a kiss but she pulled away and, breathing hard, Harry said, ‘Stop being such a cock tease.’
He pulled her towards him and she tried to push him off but the sheer power of his body on top of her made it impossible for her to move. ‘Get off me, Harry, just get off me!’
Pushing his hand hard over Tia’s mouth, Harry used the other one to rip her lace knickers off, the elastic tearing into her flesh as they ripped around her thighs.
Feeling she couldn’t breathe properly, Tia panicked and thrashed her legs about, fighting to get him off. He whispered gruffly in her ear, ‘Stop pushing me away! I want to make love to you. Maybe if you learnt not to be so uptight you’d enjoy it more.’
She felt the force of him entering her and it sent a searing pain throughout her whole body. He thrust deeper and harder inside her, growling inaudible words into her ear as he took his hand off her mouth only to put it tightly round her throat, gripping it to the point of her feeling she was going to black out. Then, within moments, as the sweat poured down Harry’s face, he groaned loudly before rolling off Tia.
Propping himself up on his elbow, he stared at her, moving her hair away from her eyes.
‘For fuck’s sake, Tia, you don’t have to look like that. Do you know how many women would love to be in your position? Come on, darlin’, don’t do this to me … just give me a kiss, will you?’
She turned her face away as she felt Harry get up from the bed. ‘You’re one cold bitch, Tia, but until you realise that, nothing’s going to change … Oh, and by the way, I forgot to tell you that tomorrow and from here on out, you’re going to have your own little babysitter.’
Tia spun around to look at Harry, who was now standing by the door of their bedroom.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about not being able to trust you and because I can’t watch you every minute of the day, I’ve got someone else. Vaughn.’
‘No, you can’t. Harry, I ain’t having Vaughn around.’
Harry gave a tight smile before walking back over to Tia and kissing her on the top of her head. ‘You’ll have whoever the fuck I say looking after you, and if you don’t like it or if you try anything, you’ll be sorry.’
7
The next day – a Thursday afternoon – Selfridges on Oxford Street seemed busier and hotter than ever as Vaughn trudged around carrying a multitude of shopping bags. Feeling trickles of sweat running down his back, he muttered to himself, cursing Harry who’d asked him, or rather told him that his job for the next couple of weeks was to keep an eye on Tia.
That was bad enough but becoming her new skivvy, lugging about designer shoes and knickers, was taking the absolute piss. It was a joke. A fucking joke. What kind of muppet Harry had him down as, Vaughn didn’t know, but playing keeper to his missus certainly wasn’t in any of his job descriptions.
‘I need to go and try this on.’
Vaughn sighed loudly, letting his irritation show and be heard, though he didn’t look Tia directly in the face. He wanted to avoid doing that for several reasons, but mainly because he didn’t want to see the fresh, angry bruise on her cheek, which hadn’t been there yesterday.
Knocking women about wasn’t and would never be his thing, and even being around it made him feel uncomfortable. But the problem was, Harry was handy with his fists when it came to men or women, and there wasn’t much Vaughn could do about it, not if he wanted to stay alive.
For now he needed Harry way more than Harry needed him and knowing that made him feel shit and angry in equal measures.
Taking his frustration out on Tia, Vaughn growled, ‘Do you have to, Tia? We’ve been trudging about most of the day. How many dresses does anyone need?’
Staring at him and noticing that he wouldn’t look at her, Tia shrugged her shoulders. ‘And you wonder why you’re single.’
Chewing on his lip, probably to stop himself exploding, Vaughn shook his head furiously as he glanced round at the various shoppers, his handsome face lined with stress. ‘No, Tia, I don’t and I’m single because I choose to be, cos I don’t ever want to have to do this shit. This sensitive, new-age guy that goes shopping, for manicures, pedicures and any other fucking cure you lot do. Just drop me out, darlin’ … Now come on, let’s go.’
Holding the Attico zebra-printed dress in her hand, Tia – although feeling miserable after what had happened with Harry last night – laughed warmly. She stood in front of Vaughn and gave him no choice but to look at her. ‘You don’t change, do you?’
‘No, and I ain’t got any intentions to either. I’m happy as I am, now come on. The sooner I get out of this fucking place, the better.’
He turned, heading towards the escalators but Tia began to walk in the other direction.
‘Well wait outside for me then.’
Fuming at how things had spiralled to this point, Vaughn marched back across to Tia. ‘I told you that you don’t need another dress.’
‘Vaughn, I don’t like this any more than you do. Like I told you yesterday, I’d rather you not speak to me or be around me for that matter. Yes, Harry has made you my keeper so neither of us have much choice, but that don’t mean you can tell me what I can or can’t buy.’
Gazing down at her, Vaughn could feel the pulse in his temple throbbing. ‘I ain’t telling you that, I’m telling you that you’re not going into the changing rooms to try it on.’
‘Fine, I’ll do it here then.’ Holding Vaughn’s stare, Tia took off her jacket before beginning to unbutton her shirt at which point, grabbing her arm not too roughly, Vaughn pulled her towards the changing rooms. ‘Okay, you win. Go on, just hurry up. But I’m warning you, Tia, don’t mess me about.’
Inside the changing rooms Tia sat down on the bench, feeling the grey, luxury carpet under her feet. She stared at herself in the mirror under the harsh glare of the lights, seeing the worry lines around her eyes.
She still hadn’t seen the kids – Harry had made sure of that. They hadn’t been at home when she’d come back from court as they’d been staying with Harry’s mother, and even though he’d promised that he’d bring them back in the morning so she could take them to school, he’d broken his promise as usual.
Everything was a game. Harry’s game. But one day, she knew that Harry’s game would be over because she’d promised herself she’d make sure that sometime soon he’d be speaking his last words. And that would be a promise that certainly wouldn’t be broken.
Suddenly her phone beeped, breaking her out of her thoughts. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw that it was a text.
Can you come around? I need to see you.
Texting back, Tia wrote:
Give me half an hour. I’ll see what I can do.
Making sure that the text had gone through, Tia quickly deleted it before pushing her phone back into her pocket. She got up and headed out of the cubicle where at the entrance of the changing rooms she could see Vaughn standing impatiently waiting for her.
Moving back out of sight, Tia leant on the slate-grey wall of the changing room and tried to think. There was no way she could sneak out without being seen and there was certainly no way she was going to tell Vaughn where she was going.
Suddenly, an idea came to her and she turned to the tall, pretty assistant who rather than putting the clothes back on the hangers was texting on her phone.
‘That man out there is hassling me. I’m worried to go back out. Can you call security, please?’
The assistant looked up from her phone and smiled sympathetically at Tia before glancing across to Vaughn discreetly. ‘The one in the Barbour jacket?’
Still staying out of sight, Tia nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s him. Just tell them that he’s been bothering me.’
‘No problem. They shouldn’t be long.’ The assistant picked up the walkie-talkie on her desk with her perfectly manicured fingers, and set about radioing security.
Ten minutes later, Vaughn, full of hostility at having been accosted by two large security men, stared at them. ‘What the fuck are you talking about? I’m waiting here for someone, so if I were you I’d get your fucking hands off me, mate.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve had a complaint.’
‘I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong fucking person,’ Vaughn snarled.
‘There’s no need to swear and I’d appreciate it, sir, if you kept your voice down.’
‘And I’d appreciate it if you weren’t such a cunt. Now get off my arm, otherwise … Oi, Tia! Where you going? Tia! Is this down to you? Are these two jokers to do with you! Tia! Tia!’ he shouted angrily across the store as he noticed Tia darting towards the escalators. ‘Tia, I’m talking to you. Come back! Don’t try and pretend you didn’t hear me! Tia! Tia! Don’t you fucking go anywhere! You hear me! Tia!’
