“Just send Coral over,” I repeat. “I want the place cleaned properly and she’ll do a good job.” Mom nods in agreement, knowing there’s no use arguing.
I shower and when I step back into my room, Bonnie, one of the club girls, is lying on my bed. It’s the same arrangement each night. She’s the only club girl I’ll have in my bed. She’s clean and I feel comfortable with her, and she doesn’t talk shit about my business or gossip with the other whores. “You okay?” She yawns. I nod and slip some shorts on under my towel. “Love it when you’re mean and moody,” she says and smirks. I throw the sheets back, ignoring her comment, and I climb into bed beside her. I turn my back to her, and she sighs before positioning herself behind me, pressing her body against my own. I close my eyes, exhausted, and I feel myself drifting off almost instantly despite it still being early.
Morning comes around and Bonnie is gone. She usually leaves in the middle of the night. It works for both of us. I dress and head to the room next door to wake Ziggy. By the time we head down for breakfast, my mom is up and busy helping Coral with the cooking. Coral’s been around the club for so many years, I can’t remember a time before her. Starting as a club whore when my dad was around, she never became anyone’s ol’ lady, but she stuck around and helps with the club’s housekeeping. “I’ll take him to school on my way into work,” I say. It’s rare for me to take Ziggy to school, so twice in one week is a miracle. Mom eyes me suspiciously, so I stare down at the newspaper to avoid questions.
I feel her before I see her. A tingling sensation breaks out across my back and then the scent of Anna’s fruity perfume fills my nostrils. Ziggy rushes to Malia, just like yesterday. I guess she didn’t warn Malia to avoid him after all.
We stand near each other, but I don’t look in her direction and she doesn’t bother to make conversation. When the classroom door opens, Anna bends down to Malia to kiss her. “Remember, we’re seeing daddy after school,” she says softly and Malia cheers happily.
A different sensation hits me in the chest, one I haven’t felt since I first met Michelle. I don’t like that Anna’s seeing her ex and I won’t be there to check that she’s safe. I shake it off quickly. I’ve no business feeling shit like that.
I follow her out of the school gates. She looks different today, dressed in a tight skirt and matching jacket. “You work?” I ask and then realize too late that it sounds rude.
“Yes.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just thought Reggie wouldn’t allow that,” I say, and she gives an awkward smile. “I thought he’d give you money.” I guess not everyone supports their exes like me.
“Bye,” she says quietly and walks away in the opposite direction. Seeing Anna is becoming an addiction. I need to stop turning up where she is. I decide this will be the last time I try to see her. No more school runs. No more café lunches. Nothing good will come of me chasing Reggie Miller’s missus.
I go to the gym for my usual workout with Cree and Chains. “You and Bonnie again last night?” puffs Chains, lifting the weights. “What’s that, a month at least? Are you taking her as your ol’ lady?”
I shake my head. “She’s good at sucking cock, what can I say?” I snigger through the lie.
“She’s only been around for a couple of months. Why do you always get to test run the whores?” asks Chains.
“Man, don’t call them that,” I groan. I hate that name being used for the girls who hang around the club. “We don’t pay them, so they’re not whores.”
“Free accommodation. Free food. That’s the payment,” he points out.
“Don’t be bitter. Now, are we working out or are you just gonna talk shit like a bitch?” I ask and he grins.
After the workout, Chains makes some excuse about having to meet a woman to let off steam. How he has steam left after that workout is crazy. Cree and I have other business to attend to, so we head off to The Windsor.
The Kings Reapers purchased The Windsor bar many years ago. I remember running around this place when I was a little kid. Pinky, the woman who runs the bar, is a scary motherfucker. She takes no crap and gives a tonne of it out.
She’s cleaning the bar top when we arrive. “He’s back there,” she says, nodding her head to her living quarters.
Marshall Ankers stands when we enter Pinky’s living room. His bodyguard eyes us suspiciously from the corner of the room as we all shake hands. “It sounded important when you called,” I begin, taking a seat on the couch opposite to Marshall. Cree moves to the window and stares outside.
“I want to offer you a deal,” says Marshall, and I almost snort a laugh. Marshall runs the drugs in my part of town, and I get a good percentage for allowing him to sell on my streets and use my access at the docks to get them into London. There’s nothing he can offer me that I can’t already take myself.
“Reggie Miller called me. He offered me his streets for a lower percentage than what you take,” he continues. Cree turns to face me, but we give nothing away with our expressions. “But Riggs, I hate that motherfucker. There ain’t no way I’m working for him. But what if we join sides, me and you?”
I arch an eyebrow and let out a bored sigh. “I thought we were already on the same side, Marshall?”
“We are. I meant what if we team up and sell on his streets too? We could
