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I could have cracked this fucking guy’s head open. The little punks had been warned, told they weren’t welcome at my club. The message obviously wasn’t clear enough or Charlie didn’t give a shit about his runners. Not giving a shit seemed to be most likely where he was concerned. Nothing surprised me with him, especially his lack of care. It was only a matter of time before he became a real problem for the club. A problem for me. He wasn’t likely to let the past stay where it belonged, especially when he knew I had no intention of crawling under a rock and disappearing this time. I was home for good.

What was surprising me was Charlie’s ‘head’ runner. Charlie’s thug.

Shaun, or Gripp in his circles, was the guy I’d seen a time or two at Monty’s, the strip club. Both Lucca and I had known his big brother, Scotty, who’d been in the process of trying to untangle himself from the gangs, didn’t want his kid brother and sister to get dragged in the way his old man had him. We hadn’t been close, kept brief contact, but we had been friends. It was a sore day learning of his cold-blooded murder a few years ago. As far as I knew though, his siblings had been taken care of. Now, I found his little brother was one of Charlie’s boys.

Neck deep in the shit his brother had tried to shield him from.

I’d messed up big time. The man, Shaun, currently wandering around my club was nothing like his brother. Gripp was a drug pusher and a heavy-handed thug. No way was he coming into this club and peddling whatever shit Charlie told him to. No fucking way.

Both him and the shady Albanian dude were in for a surprise. They’d not set foot in here again once I was finished with the pair of them. And if they did, it would be to drink, and dance, not push drugs. That shit was not going down in my club.

Martin, the club manager had called Lucca, who was on his way. Seizing the opportunity since Ayden was getting off home with his mates, I was taking a huge risk doing it this way, but it was my only option to make my threats stick. The only language these pricks seemed to understand. It made a statement too, warned anyone else thinking about coming into this club to make trouble; I wasn’t taking it.

I waited, Lucca was ten minutes away. My chance came when I saw Gripp walk into the men’s room behind Ayden. He had no beef with my nephew, I wasn’t overly concerned with them being in the john together. He’d be out before Lucca got here and it wouldn’t be long before I could nab him in the dim hallway. I heard the toilet door creak and I made my move, waiting out of sight.

He left the bathroom, a haughty glint in his eye I’d soon be snuffing out. Following a few paces behind, I jumped at my chance when he walked past the store room. It was easy enough to push him through the slightly ajar door when I barged into his back, knocking him into the black, lightless room where Martin waited.

Slamming the door shut, I reached for the light switch. Having swapped out the 100w bulb for a 40w earlier, the room had an eerie feeling to it, shadows fell across corners and lent an ominous atmosphere. Exactly what I was looking for.

The second Gripp registered his predicament, his fight kicked in and he moved straight for me. When he saw I’d blocked the door, anger morphed on his face.

“Fucking move, arsehole!” he shouted, stopping barely two inches from my face. I grinned at the fucker, he was mine now and was going to learn what it would be like to cross me if he dared.

“Brave man...” I chuckled.

Martin moved in behind Gripp and slid an arm around his neck, grabbing his hand with his other and yanking it around and up his back. He was quick, I’d give him that. The poor sod never knew what hit him, was too slow to react and couldn’t fight his way out, though he tried. Martin held him tight and flexed his arm to show he wasn’t messing around. He was muscle and knew how to use it, Gripp had no chance being taken from behind in surprise, no matter how much he fancied himself.

I reached for the gun I’d left on the shelf. I hadn’t wanted anyone but me touching it, in case the threat I was dishing went tit’s up. Pointing the gun at his head, I said casually, “you got one hand free, turn out your pockets.” I didn’t ask, I was telling. If the gun fazed him I failed to notice a flicker of concern cross his face.

“What the fuck, man? Bouncers did that when I came in. You got no right, dickhead.”

He was one feisty little shit. “You know who I am?” I asked, pulling the gun from his head and standing full height in front of him. Having been at the gym earlier, my muscles were taut with tension, veiny. My mood unpleasant toward pricks like him. My patience wearing thin.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” He tried again to shake himself from Martin’s hold, not getting much further than his windpipe being squeezed tighter. “You picked the wrong person to rob, mate!”

Yeah, never gonna be friends.

Laughing, I found his humour funny. “I’ll take it you’ve no idea, then? Okay, wise arse, let me clue you in.” I pointed to the door I’d barged him through. “That, out there, dude, is mine.” His blank expression gave nothing away, he genuinely didn’t give a shit. Not at all. I got straight to the point, having no need for theatrics, no point going any other way with the likes of him. “I won’t tolerate drugs in my club. You’re a dealer and I’m telling you, it’s not gonna happen. So, take your piss ant junkies and get the fuck out of here. Consider yourself warned and your welcome revoked. Tell Charlie he’s not getting my club.”

I nodded to Martin to let him go, and the second he did, I pressed the barrel of the gun into his forehead as I backed him against the wall, Gripp shoving his hands in the air.

“Woah! All right! I hear you. No need for the heavy-handed bullshit.” He returned his hands and shoved them in his pockets, turning them outwards, loose change scattering across the concrete. He flung his wallet and keys on the floor next, then held up his phone in his hand as he stretched upwards again. “I ain’t got no fucking drugs on me!”

Martin moved in to check his pockets thoroughly, signalling they were clear and he was telling the truth. Lucca came in the room then and Gripp’s head swung around, eyes going wide when he clapped sight of him.

“You know my bro?”

“Nah,” he shifted, examining his feet. “Familiar face is all.” The fucker was lying, he knew Lucca all right. Question was, how?

“What are you doing in my club? No bullshit, eh?”

He stared up at Lucca, then quickly looked away again, taking great lengths not to make eye contact. “My sister’s here. I’m just keeping an eye out. People fuck with her because of me.”

Yeah, I bet they did. How did I miss Sophie in my club? “She not a bit young to be clubbing?”

“Twenty-one. I don’t like her out, but I can’t lock her up, I make sure she doesn’t get messed around with.” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing me up and down. Straightening himself up and pulling his hands tight to his sides, fisted, he took another glimpse around the room. “How’d you know me? How’d you know my sister’s name?”

He was sizing up the door and I knew I’d lost his attention, he was calculating his exit. While I put two and two together, I remembered Ayden and Jake were out with a girl called Sophie. What were the chances the Sophie Ayden never stopped talking about was this drug dealer’s sister? I didn’t think it was a coincidence.

“Who’s she out with?”

“What the fuck is it to you, dude? Look, I ain’t got no drugs. I’m just having a beer with my boys and keeping an eye on her. It’s hardly illegal. You need to be hauling that fucking greasy Albanian in here and sticking a gun in his face. He’s your worry, not me.” Colour crawled up his neck and I could see his temper climbing, he did well to keep himself in check, realising there’d be consequences if he popped. He was out-numbered, and I had a weapon. How much of his composure was down to the gun I was still holding, who knew?

“Last time, Gripp. You junkie runts are not welcome in my club. Not now, not ever. You get me?”

He brushed a tattooed hand down his face, and it was only then I noticed how tired the kid looked, like bone tired, like life was the greatest burden he had to bear. His shoulders slumped as if he was giving in, deciding he’d had enough. I watched as he deflated right in front of me. He looked toward Lucca again and I knew there was something there. Lucca hadn’t opened his mouth since he’d come into the storeroom, but he was studying Shaun with a passive look on his face. Unemotionally.

“I don’t use,” he informed us. “I only peddle to repeats. I wouldn’t come in here and try it, no matter what the old man wants. It’s not my style, all right?”

“And you expect me to believe that?” I snorted at him and thought how disappointed his brother would be to see the situation he’d gotten himself in to. “I knew your brother.”

He simply jerked his head up and down, sadness blanketing his features. “I figured.” He’d lost his bite, standing looking like he needed a life jacket to keep him afloat, like I’d just ruined his favourite film by letting him in on the plot twist before he’d figured it out for himself.

“Your sister’s safe in this club, I give you my word. Everyone stays safe in my club if they follow the rules. You hear me?”

“Yeah, I fucking hear you. No need for over the top dramatics.” He pointed to the gun. “That’s too far.”

“Some of you pricks don’t listen.”

Martin stood next to me and piped up for the first time. “I’ve seen a few of your gang sniffing around out back a time or two. Watching folks leaving, shit like that. You keep it the fuck away from the club, tell your boys.”

He agreed with a nod of his head. “Can I go? I need to make sure my sister gets home.” He glanced uncomfortably at Lucca.

Did he know Sophie was out with Lucca’s son? Was that what had him cagey with my best friend? I started wondering if he was being dodgy because he knew Ayden was openly gay. Shit, did he know Ayden? He’d gone into the bathroom after him, but I’d seen no need to follow him. That was a scenario that never needed to happen. Ayden was a good kid and didn’t need the likes of him sniffing around.

Fuck...

“No drugs.” I grabbed him by the collar of his coat and shoved him backward. “I catch you, I start breaking bones, I don’t give a shit who you are or who you work for. But a piece of advice, kid.” I got right up in his face, so he knew I wasn’t fucking around. “Charlie’s days are numbered. You might wanna start looking for another job. Better yet, get some education.”

Martin opened the storeroom door when I let Gripp go and waved him out, the bloke picked up his keys from the floor then sauntered away without another word. Lucca could see I had questions but mouthed ‘not now’ as he left behind the punk arsed kid. Of course, he’d not want it in front of Martin.

“Time to intimidate the Albanian,” I grumbled as I left the room too. He didn’t look half as smart as Gripp, should be easy and I’d bet the silly twat did bring drugs in.

I wasn’t having a tainted club and the arrival of these two on the same night had my alarm bells ringing for all the wrong reasons. I wanted a fun, safe environment for folks, not a club full of junkies. It made sense Charlie was pushing his runners in my direction, desperately wanting the club, he couldn’t get me any other way. Two birds, one stone. Shaun had surprised me there, I admitted. He had me wondering exactly what his story was and just how loyal he was to his boss. Interesting conversation to be had with Lucca later.

For now - one knuckle sandwich for the Albanian was coming right up.