––––––––

Charlie’s office always made me feel sick. I was sure the old man lived in there, puffing on his cheap cigars and sipping his even cheaper whisky. When I knocked, and he shouted ‘enter,’ I stole a deep breath and swaggered into the room, Boomer trailing behind me.

“Out!” Charlie bellowed whilst pointing a finger at my friend. “Don’t need the monkey today.”

Prick.

The door closed with a barely supressed bang behind me as I made my way to the stained seats in front of Charlie’s cluttered desk. I’d be sure to wash my jeans the minute I got home, God knows how many people had sat in those chairs and pissed themselves. I didn’t think Charlie had a cleaner - not in the housework kind of sense anyway.

“Well?”

I shifted in my seat, knowing he wasn’t going to like what I had to say. “You’re gonna struggle getting anything through those doors and into the club.”

“You got in all right.”

“Getting in wasn’t the problem.”

“What exactly was the problem then, Gripp?”

“Being man-handled into a storeroom and having a gun pointed at my head was the problem.”

Charlie’s bushy eyebrows lifted at my matter of fact comment, then he burst out laughing. “He pulled a gun on you? Well, the boy has balls, I’ll give him that. He knew who you were?”

God, this man was a fucking joke.

“Yeah. Was very switched on, knows us all.”

“He’s not stupid, Gripp. He knows I’m gunning for his club, a club that was meant to be mine.”

‘The Boss’ had wanted that club for years, could never seem to get his hands on it, never get his blow inside the doors, even with the previous owners. The half-hearted attempt to do damage had scared the last owner, but not enough for him to sell to Charlie. I had to wonder if it was a good thing or a terrible thing, the new owner seemed to be a lot more tenacious and threatening than the other.

“The Albanians were there; not sure they were dealing though. Was probably hauled through the back too.”

A frown crossed his face. “It’s a new club, they’ll be doing the same, scoping it out.” The Albanians were a threat, his biggest rivals, with no love lost between them, which seemed to be Charlie’s predicament with many people. “All right,” he sighed and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk, his chubby, yellowed fingers splayed out across the scarred wood. “Keep at it. I want Shorty with you.”

I groaned at the mention of the cocksucker’s name. Shorty was like a dog with a bone when Charlie wanted something from him, which often led to mistakes. His need to impress the old man was desperate and sad.

“And get those clowns off my shit. I don’t need them sticking more up their nose than they sell. Junkies are no good to me strung out and unfocused. You hear me?”

“Got you.” I raised up out of the chair and moved to the door.

“Gripp,” Charlie called after me, “I don’t need to tell you how important this is to me, do I?”

Whatever was going on was personal, I got that much, had heard enough, and it usually spelled more trouble than I cared for. I wasn’t at all interested in the politics, just didn’t want a bullet to the head and Sophie left to the wolves. I reached for the door handle when he spoke again.

“Say hello to that lovely sister of yours.”

Not looking back as I left hastily, I feared I’d launch myself over the desk and rip Charlie’s throat out at his not so subtle threat. My time was fast running out, so was Sophie’s. I had to figure out a plan to get us both out from under Charlie and as far away from this crap we called life. Sophie deserved so much better.

* * *

“He say why he wants Shorty on this?”

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth as we sat on the bench just down from Charlie’s back alley office. Tourists were starting to come down from the city for days out and I envied the fact they got to go home and leave Brighton at the end of the day. Me - I was fucking stuck in a place and a situation I had no one else to blame for but me, it was a place I no longer wanted to be.

“No. There were no arguments, you know how he is. He wants Shorty on it? Then Shorty’s on it.”

“The guy’s a little fucking weasel, Gripp. He better have your back”

Shorty wasn’t all that good for much other than sticking coke up his nose and making a nuisance of himself. “I can take care of myself, Boomer.”

He kicked his legs out in front of him and tipped his head back, taking in the sunshine from high above. The sound of seagulls squawking lent to the lazy atmosphere despite the heavy cadence of the conversation. “You’re gonna have a hard job getting drugs in there. I think even the Albanians have figured that one out.”

“Maybe it’s better it’s Shorty and not you. If shit goes south, I couldn’t give a toss if he gets his arse kicked.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. I could tell he wasn’t altogether convinced.

“I’m so sick of this shit,” I grumbled. “Come on.” Thumping him on the shoulder, I stood up. “Let’s go see if Sophie’s calmed any. She can’t stay mad at me forever.”

Turned out, she could and was.

Opening the flat door, I knew she wasn’t home, the quiet didn’t sit right with me. When I’d wandered into the kitchen, Sophie’s scrawled note confirmed what I already suspected, and I blew out a sigh of resignation. More at myself than her.

“Gone to stay with a friend.” Boomer read the note over my shoulder. “What the fuck does that mean?”

I dropped the piece of paper in the bin can as I passed it on the way to her room. When I banged the door open, it recoiled off the wall so hard I had to put up my palm to stop it from springing back in my face. Her room was upended, in a worse mess than when Shorty had been in there. Sophie was gone all right. Half her wardrobe and her drawers were emptied, her dance gear and Uni stuff all gone too.

“Fuck!”

“Why’d she leave?” God, Boomer couldn’t see the wood from the trees half the time.

“Guess she’s still pissed at me.”

“I’ll say.”

Retrieving my phone, I called her, only to be met with the cheery voicemail message she had. Growling down the line, I left a curt message to call me back.

It had been coming, I’d seen it spiralling for weeks, how unhappy she was. She was cracking under my over possessiveness and the way my so-called ‘friends’ were with her. I couldn’t tell her why I’d put her under the microscope, she wasn’t involved in my world, I didn’t want to scare her. Charlie was a man every woman should be scared of, no matter who your brother was. He wouldn’t think twice at taking aim in her direction to get to me, hurt me or keep me in line. It’s how Charlie worked. Whatever your weakness, he’d find it and exploit it, use it, and Sophie was the only one I truly had.

Maybe she’d done the right thing by leaving?

I had a clue where she was and was happy enough that she was most likely safer there than here. Deciding to wait for her to call, I pulled in some restraint, figuring I could express my disappointment when the time was right. I wouldn’t make her come home. My sister was a grown woman, could make her own choices, a thing to remember above all. It was time to take a step back. Let her breathe.

Patting Boomer on the back, I leaned in close, he was worrying. “It’s all right. She’ll call when she’s ready.”