interest. “Where’s your boy?” I asked Warren.

He inadvertently glanced at the bathroom door and I wondered if Warren was about to do something really stupid. “I’m not leaving without him. I’m taking him home.”

Laughing heartily, I gave him my assurances. “Of course, you’re taking him home. It’s the least I can do for you. I’m sorry about this uneasy coincidence, I wasn’t aware until recently that you were married to a whore.” I sneered at Kayleigh sideways. “You might want to get looked at on the way home.” Pointing down to his arm and the blood oozing through the sleeve of his jacket, I winced in sympathy. “Clive get you with his bat, hhmm?”

“Daddy?” I hadn’t noticed the door opening until a frightened voice spoke and a child’s head appeared through a gap in the door, peeking around into the hall. Pulling my gun out of sight, I didn’t want to scare the poor kid anymore than he most likely was as he rushed forward and fell to his knees at Warren’s side crying daddy, daddy, again and again.

“No!” Kayleigh screamed.

Silencing her with a look so deadly, she had the decency to dip her head and shut her mouth. She’d betrayed me, and I was collecting, she understood I was a far greater evil than the men rolling around on the floor in front of her.

“Everyone out except you two.” I pointed to Clive and Kayleigh. “We still have some business to attend to.” My hiss was tainted with displeasure.

The unknown man holding Kayleigh against the wall, stepped away and nodded toward Gripp, the bat forgotten on the floor. Gripp scooped up the child and hugged him close while the man helped Warren up from the floor with great difficulty. He was struggling to take a decent breath, Clive having done some hefty damage with that fucking bat of his. Warren needed a hospital before he went anywhere else, I imagined Chrissie having a fit if he turned up looking the way he did.

I walked forward into his space and spoke with genuine feeling. “You and the Princess give him the home he deserves. My wife will be happy to know no harm came to the boy.”

He eyed me with scepticism, probably wondering where my compassion had been for his woman when I’d held her in a room of a rundown warehouse. Maybe this would make amends for the unfortunate incident my wife had orchestrated, I was giving him what he wanted, just like I had done before. He got to walk away and start a new chapter of his life. How lucky he was.

“Okay, let’s wrap it up,” I said once I was sure the others had left the block of flats.

Kayleigh started screaming, Sandir pushing her hard against the wall with a hand to her mouth. “I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

Clive stood with his head hanging. He knew the score, knew that punishment would not end well for either of them. How did he ever think he could get away with stealing my money and riding off into the sunset like he hadn’t betrayed the last person in the world he really shouldn’t have? Man was delusional, or maybe pussy-whipped, I couldn’t figure out which.

Standing toe to toe, I tipped his chin upwards and stared at him. “You silly fucker. I hope she was worth it.”

  Jolie Summers

“Jolie Summers, you get your arse in here girl and fucking explain yourself.”

Inebriated again, so she was. I had five minutes to get out of the house and to the Tube otherwise I could kiss yet another job goodbye because I’d stopped to engage with a drunk person. Liking this particular job, I didn’t want to lose it and vaguely deliberated whether it was worth the lashing I’d get later.

“Work, Mum,” I hollered back, avoiding the living room. “Gonna be late, see you later.”

“Jolie!”

Nope, keep walking. Ignore the woman screaming her head off, ignore the names, ignore she’s drunk. With a bit of luck, by the time I got home, she’d have passed out in her chair or, God forbid, got up and gone to bed. At least she didn’t smoke, I didn’t have to worry about her burning the whole flat down. For emphasis, or just to be a teeny-weeny bit of a bitch, I slammed the front door behind me when I left.

“Your Mama griefing again, Jolie?”

“Ain’t she always?”

Without waiting for a reply, I skipped down the four flights of stairs that kept my mother housebound. Or lazy, wasn’t sure which to be honest. Bounding out onto the street toward the Tube station, I couldn’t be tardy again, no way, I’d used up all my viable excuses, and sleeping with the boss to keep my employment was in no way appealing. Not that Bill would expect that, of course.

Being a supply teacher for three days was challenging, but the three days bar work? I didn’t bat an eyelid slinging drinks into the small hours of the morning. A no-brainer job in a bar that served a more upmarket clientele had its perks, like better behaved patrons mostly and excellent tips when the bar was busy. I loved teaching, I did, but those three days I worked didn’t pay the bills, and neither did my mother. She spent her benefit money on booze, leaving me to pay everything else, including the debts she’d amassed before she’d decided sitting in a chair all day was the best use of her life. I barely had any money left to scrape together at the end of the month.

Which was fine. We had a roof over our heads, food in the cupboard for when mum decided she wanted to soak up some of the alcohol swimming in her veins, and enough money to travel to work. I wasn’t greedy, we got by sufficiently.

The Tube

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