I shake my head at my thoughts as a knock sounds out on my studio door.
“Boss wants us all upstairs,” Titch says when he pushes the door open a little.
“On it.”
I drop the pencil in my hand and push back the sketch I was working on before following him up the stairs to the flat Zach and Biff share.
Biff’s nowhere to be seen—not that it’s a surprise. She’ll be on her afternoon babysitting visit. Plus, I know that Zach doesn’t want her anywhere near any of this. I can tell by the tense look on both his and D’s face that shit’s about to get real.
I’ve had a fair bit of drama in my life, starting with my mum fucking off and leaving me in the care of my grandparents and then the one who shan’t be named shattering the life I thought I was going to have, but all of that pales in comparison to this.
This shit is the stuff movies are made of, not our lives. Well, maybe D’s at times, but not the rest of us. We spend our days inking the people of London and mostly get on with our fairly mundane lives.
Zach looks between Titch and I and a ball of dread settles in my stomach. What the fuck is this motherfucker planning?
“Sit,” he demands.
“Zach, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask. Possibly naïvely, I assumed we’d give this fucker the money he’s owed and just put it behind us. But the hunger for vengeance oozing from Zach tells me otherwise.
“This ends tonight.”
I swallow down the anxiety that statement drags up and look to D.
He’s one scary motherfucker when he’s angry, and right now the muscle in his neck is pulsating with the need to hurt someone.
“What the fuck?” Titch barks, clearly having similar thoughts to me.
“Kas is going to take this guy his money tonight.”
“Kas is doing it?” I ask, shocked that Zach is going to let her anywhere near that fucker.
“Yeah, she’s the one who owes him. He wants it from her.”
“You’ve spoken to him?”
“No. Kas has.”
“What?” I bark. “You let her contact him?”
“What the fuck else am I meant to do? She’s the one he wants, not any of us,” Zach says, his own concern becoming obvious in his tone.
“So why the hell are we here right now?”
“We’ve got a few hours yet. Calm down. I’ve got the address in my phone. We’re going to follow her there, let shit go down, and then get her the hell out of there. Safe.”
“Have you got a fucking death wish?”
“No. D’s brother has it covered.”
I drop my head into my hand. This is a fucking dream right? This isn’t actually my life right now? “So why the fuck are we going?”
“For Kas.”
“If they see us, she might not be alive for us to rescue.” All the blood drains from his face at my words. “This guy isn’t playing, Zach. It’s not a fucking game.”
“I know that. I fucking know that,” he says, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Cruz has it under control,” he says, and I look at D. I know Cruz is his brother, but right now I’m not feeling much like trusting anyone.
D nods. “They’ve had this guy in their sights for a while. He’s been dealing on their patch. They’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to meet with him.”
“Fucking hell. What is this?” I ask, tipping my face to the ceiling in disbelief. If I knew that pulling Kas from that stage that night would drag me right into the centre of a drug lord/MC battle, then I might have had second thoughts about it.
Who am I kidding, there was no chance of me allowing her to stay up there any longer than she already had.
“We’re not doing anything other than getting her out safely. Cruz’s boys will sort everything else.”
My eyes bounce between Zach and D’s.
D’s connection to the Royal Reapers isn’t a secret. Hell, there’s at least one of them in here daily to get some more ink, but he always stays at arm’s length from that life. He has too much to lose to get involved. Well, that’s what he’s always told us, anyway.
Cruz, on the other hand, is a fully-fledged member along with their father.
I’ve heard D talk about that life, time and time again, and it always sounds like he’s talking about another world, or at least a film he watched.
“When and where?” I say after a long silence. I might not be totally okay with all of this, but at the end of the day, it’s for Kas. And for her, I’m realising, I’ll do more than I would for most.
“Kas is meeting Jet at eight,” D says without looking at me. He’s got his eyes trained on his phone. “I’ve just sent you the address. Zach’s right. We’re not doing a fucking thing. We’re just going to collect her and get the fuck out of there. This is Cruz’s battle, not ours.”
“Are you actually going to pay this motherfucker?”
“The less you know the better.”
“Jesus.”
“Biff’s rearranged our late appointments, but we will be back here on Saturday like nothing ever happened. Kas too, if she’s up for it. Drink?” he asks, placing a bottle of whisky on the table in front of both him and D as if this is just a usual Friday afternoon.
“Does Kas know what’s going on?”
D’s eyes finally lift to mine. “No. She doesn’t need the details.”
I nod back at him before taking the glass when Zach holds it out for me.
With it in hand, I rest back in the chair and knock it back in one. It burns, but fuck do I need it right now.
The silence surrounding us is heavy. Zach might say all the right words and trust D with his life—hell, we all do—but saying it and having it actually happen are two different things.
17
Kas
My hands tremble as I stare down
