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I breathed in his breath, skin on fire.Dangerous.I was alone, out of my depth, threatened by someone with no limits, no restraint, no fucking safe word. His eyes weren’t playing, no humanity staring back at me, not this time. I shifted against him, fighting the familiar thrill of being pinned.
“Go,” I said. “I’m done here.”
He released me in a flash, grabbing his holdall and walking away without a backwards glance. Casey followed, bounding along at his side like a different animal. Maybe he was right, maybe she did belong with him.
My phone was still ringing. I stared at the office number but it seemed so far away. Far away in a world of conformity and procedures and health and safety. I wasn’t ready to go back there, not yet.
“Wait!” I called.
He didn’t respond, didn’t even slow down. I had to run after him, grabbing at his elbow without thinking. The savage spun on his heels, wild, ready to attack until he registered it was me. His fist paused mid-air. I put an arm up to block him.
“Thought you were Jones,” he muttered. “What now?”
I don’t fucking know.“The dog... I’ll want to check up on her.”
“Check up on her?” he growled. “What does that mean?”
“Just to know she’s ok,” I said. “I’ll need your phone number.”
“Ain’t got one.”
“Do I look that fucking stupid?”
“The number’s 0791-mind-your-own-fucking-business,” he sneered.
“I got your dog back, and I’ll let you leave with her, but youwillbe giving me your number, or so help me God you’ll have to knock me out just to shut me up.”
He frowned for long seconds, then finally dug around in his bag. The handset was an old model, built like a brick. He scrolled through the numbers until he found his own, shoving it in my hand. I wrote it down on my clipboard, checking it once, twice, three times before I handed it back to him.
“Take care of her.”
“Always.” He pulled up his hood until his face was in shadow, and then continued away.
I watched him long enough to catch him turn back, just in earshot.
His words were simple, but they were sincere.
“I owe you, estate manager. I won’t forget this.”
Neither would I.
Chapter Three
Callum
Casey was nothing but bones, just like when I found her. I fought the red mist, ready to charge up to those cunting Scotts and make them pay, only I couldn’t risk it. Not now.
Case stuck at my side, just like old times, ears pricked up as we headed for our dinner. The bin round the side of Al’s fish and chip shop was usually packing with leftovers. I dug out some trays. Lucky haul—half a battered fish, and a couple of bits of sausage. I gave it all to Casey, every single bit. I’d feed her up again proper, just as soon as I sorted some cash. I’d have to hook up with some old acquaintances, let them know I was back in business.
My business was packages, but only the small stuff, taking them from A to B and asking no questions. They’d chuck me a bit of cash, a twenty here and there. The big money was in the harder stuff, but that wasn’t my bag, not anymore. Too much jail time. She’d be dead by the time I made it out.
There ain’t no real jobs for a guy like me, not even round the dregs in these parts. I’m too well known. Known by face and known by fists. It used to bother me, used to eat me up that nobody had a chance to give me. Got used to it, though. Life ain’t never been kind, being older don’t make no fucking difference.
“Alright, Case, easy girl.” I sank against the wall, pulling her close. Nothing left of the haul but chip papers, and I didn’t want her chewing on that. I got out my baccy, made a roll-up. Only a skinny one, had to make it last. My jaw pounded like a bastard. Tyler had got me a good one, asshole. His luck would run out one of these days.
Two of the little slags that live by Mam cruised on by, stopping to give me the eye. They laughed, all giggly and stupid, then huddled whispering. I used to be tempted, before I knew better. Dipped my wick in any tight little snatch that offered. I used to think it meant something, meant something about me, but all it ever meant was they’d fucked the bad boy, like a prize fucking medal.
They think it’s a hard act, like I threw my manners out with the trash to be a cool guy. They’re wrong. I never learned any to begin with, never learned how to be anything else. Maybe that’s why nobody has a chance to throw my way.
