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Tony rolls his eyes at my whining but reaches into his pocket to roll another. “I don’t care. I kind of own the place.” He slowly saunters through the open door, eyes darting between his fingers and me. It takes him only seconds to roll an uncreased cigarette. His lips hold it perfectly still as he lights it, his eyes locking with mine above the burning end.
“What’s up, Al?” he asks quietly, coming to stand behind me with his back to the door so our conversation feels more private, even though we both know Chantelle is craning an ear to overhear our conversation.
The girl would have additional ears if it meant she could listen to more of everyone’s gossip. That being said, she would never share a peep of mine or Hasting’s Hounds’ business. If anything, things she’s overheard have helped Tony before, so he doesn’t mind her nosiness.
“I feel like I’m in this happy little bubble, and I’m just scared it’s going to burst.” I hold my hand out, gesturing for his lighter when my cig stops burning. “If it’s too good to be true, then it probably is.”
Tony lets out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” His voice is soft but deepened with sadness.
Alarm shoots down my spine like an icy chill.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong with you and Sophie?” They’re getting married this weekend!
My question is like a jolt to him. His shoulders lift, and he immediately starts shaking his head.
“What? No…no, of course not. We’re perfect…” He clears his throat, but not before I see strain marring his face.
There’s definitely something he isn’t telling me.
“You know you can talk to me about absolutely anything, right?” I keep my voice at a low whisper, wary of Chantelle.
Tony turns his back to me as he flicks his cig butt in the large flower pot we use as an ashtray. “I know.” It’s barely audible. Clearing his throat, he swings back to face me, his bravado in place. “Well, if it is too good to be true and this guy turns out to be an arsehole, he won’t want to show it at the wedding. Way too many people will be in the room that will want to beat his arse for you.” He winks, giving me his flirty grin. “After I’m finished with him, obviously.” Tony’s face falls slightly as he sees the emotion well up in my eyes. His arms open, ready for me to fall into them. He towers over me, but that doesn’t stop him from showering me in hugs whenever I need them.
“I don’t want to lose you. You’re getting married! Don’t let her take you away from me.” I squeeze my arms around his hard middle.
Tony is impressive to look at, without actually feeling his physical strength. He doesn’t need a weapon—heisone, and he makes sure everyone knows it.
“You’ll never lose me, Al. You might not be sworn into this gang, but you’re family, and you always will be. And no wife of mine will change that. Stop getting all emotional on me.”
Tony says it like it’s a dig, but he’s always been there with a hug when I’m a soppy mess. I’ve always been one, and I think I will always be.
“Why don’t you clean the bar in the morning? You two make a move and go home.”
He’s probably right. I’m shattered. I’ve been here since six o’clock this morning, working on the wedding present he doesn’t know is in the shed.
“Alice! Your phone keeps ringing. I think it’s lover boy,” Chantelle says loudly.
Tony and I share a look. We can both hear her attempting to hide behind the corner.
I step quietly back toward the corridor, spinning quickly on Chantelle. “Let’s leave the mess till the morning.”
She jumps, face reddening when she realises she’s been caught.
“When are you going to learn not to eavesdrop on Tony and I?” I walk past her, leaving her shrinking under Tony’s glowering stare.
“It’s a disease!” she wails in fake theatrics. “I can’t control myself!” Chantelle collapses back against the wall, holding herself as if she’s just been stabbed.
“One of these days, Chantelle…” Tony leans in, whispering loudly into her ear so I can hear. “You’re going to hear something you wish you’d never.” He might say it jokingly, but the threat rings clear.
She only sees the brotherhood side of the gang; she doesn’t know the dark business that goes on like I do. I’m Tony’s sounding board. When he needs to confide in someone, I’m always there to listen. No matter how bad it is, I let him talk, to lighten the burden he carries as Hasting’s Hounds’ youngest gaffer ever.
“I know. Message heard and noted…Ali, can we leave now?” Chantelle looks at me with pleading eyes, still cowering against the wall.
I swipe my phone off the counter and see the four missed calls from Joseph. “Yeah.”
All bar work abandoned, we walk down the few streets it takes to get to the house of flats we rent off Tony.
“Goodnight.” Chantelle waves her arm over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs to her apartment, leaving me at the front door to my large ground-floor flat.
