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As well as running drugs, I extorted protection with the barrel of my gun. And that deuce made Charlie a lot of money. The very protection I offered was from my own gang. Whilst the glint of silver ensured my palm was greased heavily, my pockets were always light. I paid my own protection too – for Sophie. And her price was high.

I didn’t have a single kill to my name, had never had to take it so far, but I had plenty blood on my hands. I remembered not so long ago these hands of mine used to be thirsty for blood, now - not so much. Even before Sophie had fallen pregnant, and I’d met Ayden, something had shifted in me, had me thinking differently and seeing the error of my ways. I was nowhere near taming the beast, but I could feel change fast approaching. With a semi-plan in my head, I had to make it work. In the mean time I played ball, going on like I was the same person I had always been. I had to be my family name. I had to be a Jessop. Just like my brother, just like my old man.

It was Wednesday. I’d been three days without Ayden and severed all contact with both him and Sophie, Ryder stating it was for the best. And it was hard going. I’d been concentrating on Boomer to take my mind off the place I’d rather have been. I’d discussed the rehab option - which wasn’t really a choice - and Boomer pounced on the idea, finally recognising he couldn’t go clean himself. His use wasn’t heavy, but he was still an addict, couldn’t go a day without shoving coke up his nose. The plan was to do Charlie’s dirty work with his money pick up tonight, then Boomer was getting a last hoorah before I carted him off to salvation the next morning. One day earlier than Ryder had said. I was proud I’d managed to coax my friend into going with relative ease.

However, the run later was a worry. The place tonight was tricky, a club that had some fierce bouncers and a gnarly owner. Still, he knew the consequences of missed payments and how the gang could quite easily close him down in the blink of an eye. He paid his dues, or at least he normally did. This week he hadn’t, or last for that matter so now it was time for the visit. I really didn’t feel up to it and wasn’t all that confident in the guys the Boss had sent with me either. I had Boomer but the other three I didn’t like so much.

Shorty was his usual arrogant fucking self, pumped up on drugs and looking for trouble. The two other boys seemed to have taken a liking to the way he acted, their ego’s far bigger than they should have been. Shorty was the kind of guy who was too eager to shoot first and ask questions later. Always made for a messy evening, one that could usually have been avoided.

When we pulled up outside the club later, I could feel the unease seeping off Boomer, in turn it made me edgy and I didn’t like it. Maybe he was distrusting the same as me, but something was off. The three goons piled out the back of the car, slamming doors as they did, and I watched them swagger with their ‘all that’ attitude to the front doors of the club where they waited for us.

My friend made no attempt to exit the car. “I got your back, Gripp,” he said, looking at my clenched knuckles strangling the steering wheel.

“Yeah? You feel it too, mate?” He nodded his head. “I got yours too, bud. Game on.”

We left the car and walked into the club without so much as a peep from the bouncers. With backs straight, and hard faces, we looked like we goddamned owned the place; in this life, appearances were everything. I put on the usual show, so nobody could tell the way my stomach was churning. Scanning the club, its dimmed lights not giving away too many faces in the shadows. But I clocked Ryder straight off at the back of the bar, sitting with Martin, and I shot my head down low. The unease felt real now. Had I not been looped in on part of the plan? They’d known I would be here to collect for Charlie but there was no need for either to be present. I didn’t understand it.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself, I didn’t need this tonight. “Gimme a sec, Boomer, yeah? I just wanna text Sophie, then we’ll do this.” The lie tripped easily from my tongue as I fished out my phone from my pocket and shot Ryder an aggravated text.

Me: What’s going on?

Ryder: Just having a drink, checking out the competition. Nothing to worry about.

Breathing a little easier at his immediate reply, I shoved my phone away then nodded my head towards the back hallway where the offices were. They’d know we were here by now. I chanced another look in Ryder’s direction, but I was met with vacant space.

Heading into the office, I kept Boomer by my side and the other three at my back even though that didn’t fill me with too much confidence, it spoke of the rank however. Two heavy set bouncers stood either side of the owner’s desk and as the door closed behind us I took note of two more bouncers claiming a spot inside the room. Okay...it all felt like a huge fucking set up.

“Hey, Russell,” I edged toward the desk, pointing to the chair, “Mind if I sit?” I was always the epitome of politeness, that way they never saw me coming when it turned ugly. And it often did.

“Sure man, sure.” Speaking confidently, he gestured to the chair. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Gripp?”

Now, here’s the thing about Russell Convey; he was genuinely a nice guy. Really nice guy. Didn’t make any fuss about payments when we leaned on him for the protection money. ‘All business’ he’d say with a smile when we negotiated. He didn’t have a mark on him I could use; the guy was as clean as a whistle, no family or kids, no dirty secrets. He seemed straight up legit and I never enjoyed coming here with threats on my tongue. I hadn’t really had the need to do it before, so I wasn’t comfortable doing it now. But he was a big fella, looked like he could bench press his two lackeys beside him and not break a sweat. I didn’t want to be putting a six-foot four boxer to the ground unless I absolutely had to.

“You know why.”

There’s a reason I’m the Boss’s muscle and it runs far deeper than me fucking his daughter and favours. I get the job done in the cleanest way possible, I collect. But for once I didn’t want to, especially not with Russell, hated putting the man in this position.

“Boss needs his cut, says you’re late,” I reminded him.

“Ah, yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, a nervous tell if ever there was one. “I need to explain that...” Looking around the room, he licked at his lips when his gaze came back to mine.

“Well, Russell, we got as much time as you need to explain, buddy.” I tried to go for the easy sounding conversation to settle him down, but Shorty was getting antsy behind me. I could hear his harsh breath resounding through the room and imagined he stood with hands fisted and a menacing glare on his face. I knew the bloke was going to pop soon, for whatever reason. Someone had rubbed him the wrong way, Charlie had probably given him a beat down for the dead kid, and he’d brought his temper to work with him.

Russell cleared his throat. “I had to take on a new business partner, my profit was taking a hit and I needed and injection of cash.”

“Okay, we could have done that, you know?”

“No, no. I mean yes, I know, but it needed to be legal, Gripp. You know how I do my business and you guys are the only....” He didn’t need to finish his sentence; we all knew we were the only bit of illegal business he had going on. “My partner won’t pay the protection, says we don’t need it.”

Shorty laughed behind me and I blinked rapidly sensing the meeting heading straight down the pan. I turned to glare at him before whipping back round to pin Russell with a scowl. Of course, they fucking needed it. My crew would have this place raised to the ground within an hour.

“Bad decision, Russell,” I tutted. “I’m here to collect tonight, or you know what comes next.” I warned, a cold shiver climbing up my spine. We all knew it - the part I hated. Where things got rough, fists were slammed, guns drawn. This time felt off though, Shorty looming behind me giving me pause from shoving Russell to the floor and delivering a few hard pops to the mouth. Often it was all that was needed.

“Well, looks like you got some medicine to take then, old boy.” Shorty growled, moving to the side of me. “Boss wants his money or your hide.”

Sitting felt like a disadvantage with the round, the barrelled body of Shorty looming next to me, so I stood to my full height and flexed my arms out in front of me, cracking my knuckles. It was more of a show to Shorty than Russell, but I suspected the stupid fuck didn’t get the signal.

Before I could move, he launched over the desk and grabbed Russell’s shirt collar, sticking his head into him as he drew forward. The resounding crack of Russell’s nose breaking echoed around the room. The room where four bouncers stood and three of my guys were - nobody moved. The blokes beside Russell just watched, a subtle tip of one’s head telling me all I needed to know. These guys didn’t work for the club, they worked for someone else.

Shorty still had a hold of Russell, and I had to give the guy his due, he didn’t stop eyeballing the man who had a tight grip on him even with blood gushing down his face.

“Enough, Shorty!” I barked out, taking a step forward.

He didn’t let go, continued to glare at Russell. “He needs to pay up, otherwise...” not finishing his sentence nor acquiescing his hold, I yanked at the back of the prick’s coat.

“Enough!”

Looking around the room, I saw Boomer had grabbed one of the other boys and was holding him back from jumping into the fray, to spot Shorty’s back. The other was a few paces away from Boomer, a knife clutched tight in his hand.

Fucking hell...

Eventually letting go of Russell, Shorty climbed from the desk, pushing papers to the floor. A childish act if ever I’d seen one. “He needs to pay the fuck up or get fucked up. That’s what the Boss said.” His head swivelled around to me and his narrowed eyes looked manic. “What’s it to be, Gripp? You’re the man.” His apparent compliment was a sneer the whole room tuned into. It just wouldn’t do.

“Out! Get the fuck out!” I faced Russell, who was now swiping a handkerchief across his face, smearing the thick clotted blood over his mouth. “You have one day, mate. Then I’m back.”

Still nobody moved, including Shorty. I jumped at him and fisted the collar of his jacket, hauling him toward the office doors. “Move!” The two bouncers wisely shifted from their stance in front of the door, one opening it, the other looking at the floor.

Pussies.

I didn’t drag Shorty through the club, no, that would have been asking for trouble. Instead, I towed arse through the back entrance of the building and roughly shoved him against the brick wall before rounding on him. Gripping two handfuls of his hair, I slammed his head backwards, his skull connecting with the brick.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He laughed in my face. “Moving your arse along, slow boy. Boss said you were going soft. He got that right, huh?”

Punching the prick, my hand was so fast he didn’t see it coming, the sock to his jaw surprising him, making him yelp out in pain. His split lip gushed blood across the front of my white t-shirt and I groaned at the ruined garment of clothing. Letting go of Shorty, he doubled over laughing. This guy was a fucking idiot, there was nothing more to say about him.

“You need to watch who you’re hitting, big man,” he warned.

My temper flared, and all good sense fled, he’d pissed me off enough. Behind the back of Russell’s club, in front of two of his flunkies, I delivered a swift and painful message to Shorty. By the time Boomer managed to haul me off the bleeding mess of groans and whimpers, I didn’t give a fuck. The guy pushed and pushed and right then I was done.

Shorty didn’t have the gumption to come at me on his own, but he would come. The beating I’d delivered guaranteed it. I added another thing to the ‘watch my back’ list and walked away, hoping it would be the last I would see of the poor excuse of a man left lying bleeding on the ground.

With Boomer’s hand on my neck guiding me as I swayed down the road, my adrenaline crashing, he marched me into Monty’s, citing I needed to cool down and have a drink before we went back to the flat. Even though it was Charlie’s titty bar and Chrissie worked there, somehow the place always felt like a second home. I didn’t watch the women, they did nothing for me, therefore it was a safe place to get plastered. All the girls stayed away, they knew I didn’t come for their delights.

Yeah, Monty’s was as good a place as any to unwind.

Boomer slapped his hand on the bar and shouted for Chrissie. She was at the far end, her phone against her ear, talking frantically to whoever was on the other end. She shot up a hand in a ‘wait a minute’ motion then turned her back. I didn’t care about her hostility, if she served me drinks and didn’t cause a scene, it was all good.

“You should go clean up.” Boomer nodded his head toward the back hall where the toilets were, and I grinned at him for the great idea. I must have looked a mess, I knew my hands were covered in blood, and I couldn’t sit there drinking looking the way I did so I got up gingerly from the stool and made my way back.

Scrubbing the red from my hands I watched as it circled the grimy plug hole, my heart sinking, thoughts flying to Ayden. I looked up into the cracked mirror above the sink and sighed. He’d be so disappointed, livid really if he knew what I’d just done. Justified or not, Ayden didn’t condone violence. I shook my head and decided to put him from my head for the rest of the night. God knew he’d been all I could think of the past few days, and it was doing me no favours.

By the time I’d straightened myself out and cleaned up, I ambled back to the bar, zipping up my jacket to hide the state of my t-shirt. Chrissie had been and gone judging by the tumbler of amber liquid perched on the bar in front of the seat I’d vacated ten minutes earlier.

Sliding onto the stool, I asked Boomer what he was drinking. When he said it was lemonade, I straight up looked at him in astonishment. “Friday,” he muttered, then smiled at me.

Friday indeed.