All Screwed Up (Belial's Disciples Book 2) Read online

  Staying in his place wasn’t a terrific deal, either. It was clear from the start I’d double up as cook and cleaner. Also, I had to do him. Seeing gorgeous me all naked and helpless turned him on, so morning shoots inevitably ended up with a nooner, and then he’d have me again before it was time to collect Mia.

  I like bad boys, which is why I’d fallen for him years earlier. But Jason was no longer my idea of a good time even for a bonk. He was rough, which I usually love, but he was selfish and a quick shooter to boot.

  Under other circumstances, I would have refused him, but I kept my trap shut because I didn’t want to jeopardize the job. If the work included me, I was willing to spread wide and smile - or rather, gasp and moan.

  You might sneer, thinking I’m a tart, but I don’t care. As long as I can give Mia everything she needs, you can believe what you like. Everything I do, I do for her.

  So, I took on Jason, but it had gone spectacularly wrong. I knew we’d best get far away and fast. The important thing was to get Mia to a safe space. Luckily, I pack like a demon on speed.

  “Mummy, you forgot my hairbrush.”

  Another treasure, also embossed with a pink pony. Mia was well versed in being independent and strong, but she was born with a penchant for things pink and fluffy.

  I grabbed the brush from the dresser. “Okay sweetheart, let’s put on shoes and a coat.”

  “But I’m wearing jammies.”

  Also pink, in case you didn’t guess. And printed with ponies. “It’s an adventure.” I was under no illusions. If we stayed, we’d be at Jason’s mercy. You can’t argue with drunken nutters. “We’re going for a surprise holiday,” I told her.

  “You’re not fucking going anywhere.” Jason, standing in the doorway, had that same terrifying red-eyed look as the Terminator. “I’m not done with you.”

  I stood in front of Mia, facing him down. “I quit. Find another model.”

  The red eyes were focussing on Mia. “Not going anywhere,” he slurred.

  Fear for my little girl had me bristling. “Come near her, and I’ll gut you.” I held the hairbrush in my fist, hoping he’d mistake the shiny silvered handle for a blade.

  “What? With a hairbrush?”

  Okay, drunk but not stupid. I picked up the backpack, holding it in front of me, hoping to ward him off. “Mia is six. You’re scaring her.”

  Incredibly, he was trying to lean around me. “She’s not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

  I pushed him away. “Jason, I’m warning you, don’t you dare touch her.”

  The paw was shoving me aside, and he was lunging for Mia. Rage and fear throttled through me, telling me exactly what to do. I slid in close and kneed him. Hard. Even with the leathers, I got him right in the balls.

  For a moment Jason was frozen. Then, as if in slow motion, he was rising in the air and clutching himself. “Fuuuuuuck!” I was happy to hear him moan like a wolfhound. “Biiiitch!” He was collapsing onto his knees.

  “I warned you.” I grabbed Mia, super strength fuelled by fear again, and lifted her and the backpack over the stricken giant.

  “Kill you,” he whispered. “And that little -”

  It’s not nice to kick a man when he’s down, but I had no trouble booting him in the balls again. I didn’t want him coming after us. “Bye, Jason.”

  As we fled into the night, his voice came floating after us. “I’ll fucking get you!”

  Chapter Two

  Rex

  We parked the bikes behind a hedge and sneaked up to the cottage. At least, we started off carefully, but when a blast of music came belting out of the open doors and windows, we dropped the cautious approach.

  “Confident bunch, aren’t they?” Crush said.

  I took in the lack of security and the van parked arse end towards the lane. “Or complete amateurs. They don’t even have a getaway in place.”

  Crush took in the lay of the land. “Wankers,” he sighed. “Useless fuckers.” He thought for a second, and then he was snapping out orders. “DT, Flash, Zero, you go round the back. On my signal, flush them our way.”

  Crush is six foot two, a bear of a man, bristling with hair, tats, and leather. Most people take him for a big dumb biker outlaw, but the facade hides a brain the size of a planet. Caden says Crush could have been another Montgomery. He should know because my brother has a collection of medals, including a Military Cross. But as the army passed on Crush’s application, we were cheerfully confident as we prepared for battle.

  “There’s five inside,” Crush reminded us. “We force them out the front door, which will drive them out in single file.”

  We’d been over it already, so we merely nodded.

  Crush whistled, imitating a nightingale, there was a long second of silence, and then all hell broke loose as Flash released his homemade firecrackers. They were loud in the open air, but inside the tiny cottage, they sounded like hand grenades.

  As we’d planned, the men inside panicked. One ran straight into Crush’s hammer-like fist, and another went slap into Kraken. I didn’t see how he did because I had my own trouble to deal with.

  The first one piling out went down when I whacked him on the chin. The problem was the two behind him came out at the same time and were trained properly. One kicked high, his foot slicing up with explosive force while the other aimed a fist at my gut.

  In the films, the tough guy takes the blow. I’m not stupid, so I leaned back on my heels and twisted out of the way. As the fist whistled past my ribs, missing by a mile, the foot moved past my ear. I just reached for wrist and ankle and pulled, sending both of them flying. A couple of carefully placed kicks broke enough ribs to take them out of the fight.

  I’m all for efficiency, so I finish fights fast. The others enjoy a scrap, so they tend to take their time. While I relaxed, Crush was having a blast, holding a bloke up by the hair as he hit him in the face, gut, and balls. Kraken was laughing, his tats writhing as he punched and kicked.

  As it had been a couple of weeks since we’d had a set-to, I wasn’t surprised to see DT, Flash, and Zero come trotting around, hoping for a slice of the action. They were too late; the fight was over.

  “Awww,” Flash moaned. “All done already?”

  Kraken was picking his man up and laying him out on the grass, neatly lining him up next to mine. “You got to be at the door last time,” he observed. “It was our turn.”

  “And I got three.” Okay, I was a tad smug.

  Crush eye-rolled. “Well done, Rex. Now, are you going to stand about and gloat or are you going to tend to business?”

  That got me rushing inside. “Fuck me, just look what they did to my wine!”

  Zero was right behind me. “Rex, it’s not smashed or opened. It’s fine.”

  “Is it hell, you ignorant ape!”

  I love Zero like a brother, and he’s an ace lawyer, but when it comes to fine wine, he’s a philistine. As I’m in events management and it was my consignment the bastards had stolen, I knew that poor handling could be as devastating as smashing the stuff.

  As it was, my beautiful Sauternes and Bordeaux had been brutalised. They’d opened two cases, and the rest had been tossed about and stacked any old way. “This isn’t bloody Coca-Cola. It needs to rest gently on its side.” I checked the labels. “And where the hell is my port?”

  “Kraken says the van is still packed.”

  “It’s out in the baking sun? Fuck!”

  I went flying out and found my single malt and gin were there, boiling in the bloody sun, for God’s sake, but no port. Even though they’d robbed the courier just hours before, they’d found time to sell it.

  Kraken and Flash were standing over the thieves, casually kicking here and there, but holding off with the cricket bats. We’d had a lot of experience, and so we knew to leave punishment until all the loose ends had been wrapped up. With the best will in the world, you can’t get information from a man who’s unconscious.

  There were five of them, but I went straight for the one who’d tried to kick me because he was wearing a Texas Hold’em Championship t-shirt. The man was a card player. “Nice try at an axe kick,” I said. “You’re a black belt?”

  He nodded. “Look, mate, nothing personal. We didn’t know it was yours.”

  “That was a mistake.” I gave it to him straight. “You’re going to get the beating of a lifetime.” I saw his eyes flick to the cricket bats. “But I won’t break your fingers if you tell me where my port is.”

  In our business, a broken bone or two is nothing but fingers are a bitch. You can’t eat, pee or even scratch your nose for weeks. Also, getting full mobility back is a toss-up.

  I reckoned that would scare this bloke. “So, want to be able to shuffle a deck of cards when you get out of hospital?”

  He folded completely. “The bloke who told us about the consignment asked for a cut. We didn’t have any cash, so he took the port.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Dunno. We met him in a pub.”

  It’s a cliché because it’s true. Pubs are gossip central. “Shame you didn’t ask.” I gave him an encouraging kick in the ribs. “Bye-bye fingers.”

  “Wait-wait-wait! He was wearing a Green Knight tee! It’s a pub!”

  “In Lincoln. Yes, I know.”

  Crush leaned over my shoulder. “The Horde was behind this?”

  We Disciples run Bonnington, and the Horde have territory in Lincoln, so we’re neighbours. We’re also rivals, but as trouble is bad for business, we’ve got a truce. However, it’s patchy, and from time to time, we have problems. As Pig, president of the Lincoln chapter of the Horde, owned the Green Knight it was he who’d set these fuckers out to rob me.

  “You won’t see your port again,” Crush said.

  Five thousand quid down the drain. And weeks of gentle care to help the rest of my stock recover.

  I lifted the cricket bat. “You bastards made a mistake, coming to Bonnington.”

  “N-no!” The poker player was trying to roll out of the way, but I got him a good smack on the elbow. He screamed and lay still, paralysed by sudden overwhelming pain. “Argh!”

  “Don’t mess with the Disciples.” The bat connected with his other elbow. He was screaming so much, that he barely registered me bashing him on the hip and ankle. “Stay out of our territory.”

  Behind me, I heard Crush giving the talk too. “Bonnington is our place.” Smash. Scream. “Don’t come back.”

  And Zero, “This is notice.” Whack. Wail. Then, because he’s a lawyer through and through, “We will vigorously defend our property with extreme prejudice.”

  The punishment beating didn’t take long. Cricket bats do a great job so just a few minutes later the lot of them were bloody and unconscious. We broke arms, legs and ribs, all extremely painful when shattered, while staying away from easily fatal heads and necks. I kept my promise too; the karate man kept his shuffle. Mind you, I broke both his arms. His ribs weren’t in good shape, either.

  “I think we’re done here,” Crush took a quick look around. “Great work, lads. They’ll be in traction for two months, minimum.”

  I was back inside the cottage, rescuing my wine. As I loaded the van, Crush was on the phone. “I’ll send you the coordinates, but it’s easy to find. We’re a mile past the duck pond on the back road to Bonnington.” He shoved the phone into his pocket. “Viper is on his way. He’ll take it all to Perdition.”

  I checked my watch. “It’s still early. Let’s stop for a quick one at the Dog and Duck.”

  Bonnington is small, and the holiday season hadn’t started yet, so it wasn’t long before we were strolling into our favourite gastropub.

  “Gentlemen, good to see you. Beer? And an early lunch? There are homemade steak and mushroom pies coming out of the oven in two minutes.” Wally, the pub owner, was loud in his welcome. But once we sat down, he dropped his voice. “Did you find your wine, Rex?”

  “Yeah, but the port is missing.”

  “Fuck!” Wally hissed in sympathy. “The 2003?”

  “Yes. If you hear of some being sold cheap, let me know?”

  “Sure.”

  “Hey, thanks for the heads-up on the robbery. You’ve got a case of Sauternes coming your way.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I owe you, mate.”

  Crush leaned in. “Wally, you said you overheard the news of the robbery here?”

  Wally nodded. “Henry Fisher came in.”

  Crush frowned. “Sergeant Fisher? Why didn’t he call us?”

  Wally shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

  Crush and Wally don’t get along, so Crush dropped it. But as soon as Wally went to tend to some other punters, he was on it. “That’s not on. I’ll give Fisher a call.”

  “It might be a snafu. The new inspector takes over today. From what Henry said, a new man at the helm always causes a couple of days of chaos.”

  Crush sighed. “You’d better have a word with him, Rex.”

  “I called him this morning to invite him to Perdition for drinks, but he didn’t respond.”

  “Does he know who you are?”

  “Someone will tell him.”

  I sipped my beer, a creamy stout with a delicious bite, and contemplated a gaggle of girls sitting in a corner booth. I recognised one as Shona Weir who worked at the bank, and a tittering bubble blonde looked vaguely familiar, but it was the brunette that attracted me. She wore too much makeup for daytime, but she had a big smile, big hair, and a big laugh.

  “Hey, Wally, who’s the brunette?”

  He looked over, “Not sure. The other two are regulars at the Oak Leaf.”

  Bonnington has a dozen pubs, we’re a holiday town, but the Oak Leaf is the province of locals. “Oh, I must have seen them there.”

  “You’ve probably bonked them,” DT observed.

  “Probably.”

  Wally grinned and kept quiet. He’d earned a fortune from my renting his rooms for lunchtime delight, so he wasn’t complaining.

  I was eyeing the brunette. “I have an hour or so before I need to get back.”

  “Bonnington Music Fest tomorrow, right?” Wally said.

  “And the All Night Rock Blast tonight,” Kraken grinned. “Disciples only, but you’re welcome to join us.”

  Wally shook his head. “Thanks, but everyone going to Perdition stops here for a drink. We’re going to be run off our feet.”

  The Rock Blast and Music Fest are my events, but as I’d been organising them for years and my staff were all over it, I didn’t need to rush back. And as I like to fuck as much as I love to fight, the brunette was looking good. “I might linger over lunch.”

  “Dear lord, really?” DT sighed. “You’ve seen more traffic than London Bridge.”

  “Jealousy is not an attractive trait.”

  “Which reminds me,” Wally said, “Tiffany was in yesterday. She said she’s coming for the music fest.”

  My ex. “How is she?”

  “Seems happy. She had a bloke with her.”

  Funny, we’d dated two years earlier, and it was I who broke it off, but even so, I felt a stab of resentment. “No doubt I’ll meet him tomorrow.”

  Wally nodded and rushed off to serve some incoming punters.

  “Classy girl, Tiffany,” Kraken observed. “How long is it since you dated?”

  “Mind your own business.” I wasn’t up for a lecture.

  “What you need is a girlfriend.” Kraken wasn’t taking fuck off for an answer. “The war’s over.”

  I’d split with Tiffany when we’d become involved in a battle with the Alistairs, a Lincoln-based crime family. I’d done it for her protection. Even so, they’d poisoned her dog, just as a message to me.

  “We haven’t had a problem for a long time,” DT agreed.

  “The Alistairs are gone,” Kraken nodded.

  Crush was silent because he knew better than they how I felt.

  “Wedding rings are the world’s smallest handcuffs,” I said mildly. “Variety is the spice of life.”

  Across the room, the brunette giggled and glanced my way.

  I downed my beer. “Hold that beef and mushroom pie for me, would you?”

  But before I could go and practice my charms, the brunette was hopping over. She was holding a fiver in her hand. “I’ve got a bet,” she announced.

  “Let me help you win it,” I encouraged her.

  “Shona says you’re a lord,” she giggled. “She’s trying it on, right?”

  “Oh God, here we go,” DT picked up his pint and turned away. “The peerage strikes again.”

  “Not fair,” Kraken sighed. “A title shouldn’t get you shagging rights.”

  As the others drifted away, the girl was grinning incredulously. “Really? You’re a lord?”

  “Sir Cole Davis Haldane Winslow, at your service.” I waved at Wally, signalling to pour us both a drink. “I’m also Viscount Ravenshurst. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Tracy Jackson,” she was bouncing up and down on her toes, a move that made her breasts jiggle in her tee.

  “I go by Rex.”

  “That means royal, right?”

  “Yes, but most people think it’s a dog’s name.”

  “I had a dog called Rex once, so I looked it up,” Katie confided. “So, Rex, are you seeing anyone?”

  And she wasn’t backward about being forward, either. “Not at the moment.”

  Tracy grinned. “Oh, good.”

  We were upstairs ten minutes later, ripping off each other’s clothes in one of Wally’s deluxe rooms. She was enthusiastic, and she giggled a lot, so we had a good time. Afterwards, I hugged the thick waist, feeling mellow. Fucking is fun but that moment after, when you’re feeling close, that’s just as good. Better, maybe.

  I knew it was just what the mags call feel-good chemicals, but for a moment the thick waist became sturdy, and the casual quickie with a stranger seemed like passion.

  My moment was fleeting. Tracy rolled over, smug as a cat that got the canary. “You’re even better than Evie said,” she giggled.

  “Evie?”

  She slapped my shoulder. “Oh, you’re a bad boy all right! Evie Masters.”