Page 8 of Crave

Tyler barked a laugh that wasn’t amused. “Testing costs money.”

“So does a funeral.” I looked at him. “You do what I say. Use Sami from the phone shop. Tariq’s nephew. He’ll test for cut price. And you bring me intel first. You don’t bring kids. You don’t cut prices to chase volume. We protect our own. Ghost pushes kids, he pushes his luck.”

“And enforcement?” he asked, quieter. “If we move on Ghost, he don’t play nice.”

“That’s the point.” I looked him dead in the face. “He’ll come hard. He’ll try to scare us. Try to burn our runners. We answer with muscle where we have to, with clever where we can. We don’t play his game by his rules.”

“Right. So we pull Jax, we move Ste, we—”

“We move clean,” I cut in. “We make the price worth the risk. Take the corners back one at a time. And if Ghost gets clever, we hit his runners where he’s thin. Quiet. Surgical. No noise. You with me?”

Tyler stared, then that cheeky smirk crept back. “You mean like when you dealt with Kev last winter?”

“Exactly like then.” I let it sit, the way we took back Kev’s strip with quick pressure, sharp steps, no mess. “Only cleaner this time. No kids. No smack. No loose cannons.”

He exhaled hard, rubbing his nose. “You’re nuts, you know that?”

“Maybe.” I steered us through the backstreets, checking faces, corners, the usual. “But I’m still here. You’re still here. You stick on my line, you follow my steps, and when something shifts?” I glanced at him. “You come up with me. Simple.”

Tyler swallowed, shoulders squaring. “Right. So… we move tonight?”

“Not tonight.” I watched the street for a second, thinking through runs, alibis, safe houses. “Tonight we plug holes. Test what we’ve got. If Jax’s batch’s chalking, we quarantine it. If Ghost tries to flex, we respond with a message. Small, public, enough to remind people who runs this patch.”

He nodded. “Alright, Razor.” He blew out a breath, tried for a joke, but the laugh died in his throat. “Just… don’t go soft on me, yeah?”

“I was never soft.”

And I wasn’t. Whatever I chased in the dark when no one was watching didn’t make me weak. It made me reckless. Stupid, sometimes. Like tonight. I had my flaws, but softness wasn’t one of them. And that rent boy in the alley knew exactly how hard I could be. Now Tyler did too. Different lesson, same truth.

I wasn’t soft.

I was rock fucking hard when I needed to be.

I flicked my eyes his way. “You got on the wrong side of my rules tonight. Undermined me in front of a mouth. Don’t do that again.”

Tyler licked the blood off his lip and yanked his puffer straight. “Yeah. Got it.”

We rolled slow then, headlights slicing into thin, silver strips along our patch. We kept the radio low, nothing but bass humming under the quiet as we did the round. Our jobs, as it were. Picking up paper from the runners, clocking who was short, who was slacking, who might need a word. Same shit, every night. Money in, product out. Keep it tight, keep it moving, keep the line breathing. By the time the streets thinned, and the heads shuffled home to burn out, it was late enough to leave it.

I dropped Tyler outside his gaff. He lived with his girl. Decent sort. She’d tear him a new one the second she noticed his nose bent sideways. Still stuck by him though. God knows why. Lad was a dirty fucker whenever she wasn’t in eyeshot. But Courtney chased the dream harder than he did, convinced I’d drag him up the ladder one day. Problem was, lads like Tyler only ever ended up in two places: rising with me…

Or sinking in the Thames.

“You wanna come in?” Tyler angled his head, one foot out the door. “Courtney’s got a mate round. You remember Shanice?” He laid on the puppy-dog eyes. “Spare bed for you. Warm body. Gotta be better than your mum’s sofa in that dump.”

I looked at the mid-terrace, front room lit up. On nights I couldn’t face going home, I crashed there. Courtney fed me, fussed, played mum. And every so often she dragged round a mate I had to pretend I was grateful for. Tyler asking now was his way of making up for the screw-up tonight. Any other bloke would’ve taken him up on it. I had, before. Fucked his girl’s mates more than once just to prove I could. Shanice was one who always came back for seconds without asking questions.

But that buzz had burnt out.

Faking it stopped tasting right once I realised how empty it was.

“Nah. Gotta get back for Kee. She needs milk for the baby.”

Tyler tutted. “You know she could get her own council flat now.”

“Not as easy as you think, Ty. And who the fuck’s gonna look after her and the baby if she’s shoved cross-borough? Her waste-of-space boyfriend? Man’s lucky he’s not already in the pit.”

“There’s talk, y’know? Why you ain’t done Darren in yet.”