Checkmate

by Lindsey Powell

  “Please, I can get it, I can, I just––”

  “Need more time, you’ve already said.” My voice doesn’t waver. I’ve dealt with bigger assholes than this. Showed them who was boss. Now I’m about to give Montell an education in why it is important to never, ever piss me the fuck off.

  “Tony,” I say, holding my hand out, no other words needed. Tony picks up the petrol can beside the door. Donovan brought it in when we arrived, placed it down without Montell noticing. Rome and Trevor are outside, covering the front door. Bray and Tony stand behind Montell, and Donovan stands behind me. They all know what I’m capable of, and they all know not to cross me. Such a shame that Montell didn’t get the memo.

  Tony hands me the petrol can, and I take the cap off, stepping closer to Montell, wafting the can under his nose so he can smell the fumes.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?” I say as he looks at me with wide eyes. “Now imagine how good it will smell when it starts to burn.” With that, I start to pour the liquid on Montell, slowly, over his head. He starts squealing like a little bitch, but that only shows how fucking weak he is. There is no place for weakness in this world. The minute you show it is the minute you get hurt. A hard lesson to learn, but one that will put you in good stead for the future.

  I empty the entire can over his head before dropping the container to the floor, the sound echoing around the room.

  The box of matches is handed to me by Bray. I take them, my eyes never leaving Montell and Bray steps back into place, like a good boy.

  The sound of Montell whimpering is annoying. He could at least have some self-respect and shut the fuck up. Take his punishment like a man, but I guess that he would have to have been a man in the first place instead of some little bitch who can’t take responsibility for his ignorance.

  I crouch down, my eyes level with Montell’s. The fear in them makes me feel powerful, reminds me that I am no longer the one that has to be frightened.

  “Now, Montell, you have one last chance to hand over the four thousand pounds that you owe me, or I end your life, make you suffer, leave the remains for your wife to find.” I don’t fuck around, and I mean every word.

  “Please––”

  “The time for apologies has gone.”

  “My kids––”

  “Probably wouldn’t fucking remember you for being anything other than a dirty druggie,” I say. His kids are sixteen and fourteen. Old enough to know what their father is. A fucking waster.

  “They need me,” he whispers.

  “And I need my money,” I say deadpan.

  I bet his heart is beating ten to the fucking dozen. His adrenaline through the God damn roof.

  “I haven’t got it,” he replies, and then tries to plead with me some more.

  “Wrong fucking answer, asshole,” I say as I take a match out of the box and light it, the flame flickering, signalling the end of Montell’s life. “Any final words?”

  “You won’t do it,” Montell says, attempting to call my bluff.

  I laugh at his stupidity. “Don’t ever fucking doubt me,” I snarl as I move the match closer to his body. Montell screams, tears run down his face and I move the match closer. I do it slowly, drawing out his distress for thinking that I won’t do it. I’ve done worse. This is nothing. Minor stuff. It’s just a lesson. One I bet he wishes he hadn’t showed up for.

  I am millimetres from touching the match to his clothes when he squeals.

  “It’s under the floorboard, over there, by the bed,” he says as he nods his head towards the general direction that he is referring to. The fact that this man can’t provide more than a bedsit for his wife and kids shows how much he values his drug habit over his family. Worst kind of human. Selfish.

  I don’t need to tell Donovan to check. He knows the drill.

  A few tense seconds tick past, the match burning down closer to my fingers.

  “It’s all here, boss,” Donovan says.

  Now I have a choice. Take the money and give this fucker one last chance at life or burn him and this shit hole to the ground. Decisions, decisions.

  “You know, Montell, it must be your lucky day,” I say as I blow the match out and throw it on the floor. Montell breathes an audible sigh of relief, but his body continues to tremble. It probably will for days, and he will probably spend the remainder of his life looking over his shoulder. It will only be a matter of time before he gets himself killed. Either the drugs or his next dealer will kill him.

  “Don’t ever fuck with me, do you understand?” I say and Montell nods his head frantically.

  “Don’t ever think that you will get drugs from one of my boys again. If I so much as see you sniffing around, I will end you, do you understand?” Another nod, more tears running down his face. I don’t know whether that’s because of my threat, or because he’s got to find another dealer that will allow him to buy now, pay later. Either way, my work here is done.

  I stand tall, turn around and leave the shitty bedsit, Donovan behind me, Bray and Tony still with Montell.

  I had my fun, and now they get to have theirs. Montell won’t get away with just petrol being poured over him. Bray and Tony will show him what the consolation prize is.

  I walk outside of the run-down apartment block, Rome and Trevor either side of the main doors, and go to my waiting car. My driver, a big beefy motherfucker called Johnboy, opens my car door, silently nods as I slide into the back seat. Donovan slides in behind me, and Johnboy gets back in the driver seat.

  “Not a bad day at the office,” Donovan says as he hands over the four thousand pounds.

  “If Miles had his shit together he would never have let the debt get that high,” I say, putting the money on the seat beside me. No fucker is going to steal it.

  “He seems to be letting shit slip,” Donovan says. I remain silent, but I have already noticed that Miles is letting the debts rack up higher than usual.

  “He’ll learn,” is all I say, Donovan chuckling at my words.

  They all learn eventually.

  Chapter Six

  Joey

  “This is fucking bullshit,” I shout as I throw the contract on the desk in front of me. A new contract for a new drug deal. One where I take all of the risks and end up with fuck all profit.

  “Is this a motherfucking joke?” I yell at Raymond, one of my most trusted people.

  “No, Joey, it’s not,” Raymond replies, his shoulders drooping. Raymond has been with me for the last eight years. Pretty much guided me from the moment that I took the reins. He was my father’s right hand man. Watched me grow up. Came to Sunday dinner. Looked out for me when my father died.

  “Who’s fucking with us, Ray?” I ask him the question, needing to know who is undercutting me and bringing my profit down to the lowest it’s ever been.

  “Miss Roderick,” he says, face straight, lips pulled into a thin line.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “I know, Joey. I know it’s not good enough, but aside from making the bare fucking minimum, there is no other way that she can undercut us,” Raymond tells me. “Ronnie Masters won’t take any other deal, not with Miss Roderick’s on the table. We either go lower or he moves ship.”

  “And all of the fucking years of loyalty we’ve shown him? The protection we have given him when it has been needed?” I say.

  “Totally irrelevant,” Raymond says, but we both know that there is no such thing as irrelevant in this world. Not unless the word refers to a person about to be put into a body bag. We also both know that Ronnie Masters needs to be taught a lesson in respect. Nobody ships out on me. Fucking no one.

  “Why now? Why is she doing this now?” I ask out loud, more to myself than to Raymond.

  “You got beef with her, Joey?” Raymond asks me, and I freeze for a second before I start pacing up and down my office.

  “I’ve only just fucking met her, Ray.” I have no desir
e to tell him about how Paige was my secret sanity all those years ago. My secret, and now the one trying to be my fucking downfall.

  “You sure about that?” he asks, and I stop, turning to face him, my stare hard, unnerving.

  “You questioning me?” I ask, my tone showing how pissed off I am at having to ask that in the first place. No fucker questions me.

  “Of course not, Joey. I apologise,” Ray says as he holds his hands up in surrender before lighting up a cigarette that he just pulled from his jacket pocket. He offers me one, and I take it, lighting the fucker up and taking a deep inhale. The smoke fills my lungs and I exhale, my anger threatening to boil over.

  “Set me up a meeting with Ronnie. I want that fucker to tell me to my face that he’s hopping ship.”

  “Done,” Raymond says, flicking his ash into the crystal ashtray that sits on my desk.

  “Then get Miss Roderick to agree to a meeting. No matter what it takes.”

  “Okay, Joey. I’ll do some digging, see what else I can find out.”

  “You should have done that already,” I tell him, pissed that she’s managed to sweet-talk one of my biggest clients away from me.

  With a wave of my hand I dismiss Raymond and turn to look out of the floor to ceiling windows that run along the back wall of my office, offering me a view of nothing but countryside.

  I hear the door click closed behind Raymond and I continue to smoke my cigarette.

  “I’m your unfinished business, Joey, and make no mistake, I never lose.” Paige’s words resound in my head.

  Unfinished business, a woman scorned.

  The worst fucking kind.

  ***

  I’m sitting in the back room of an upscale restaurant, waiting for Miss Roderick to show her face.

  She agreed to a meeting. Set it up pretty quickly.

  Five hours ago I found out that she had undercut me on a deal, and now I sit, ready to face her and ask what the fuck she thinks she is doing.

  I sip my glass of mineral water. No alcohol has touched my lips. I need my wits about me, my complete focus and concentration on what is to come.

  We’re both at the head of our operations, and we’re both aware that we need to be on alert.

  Raymond waits outside of this room for me, along with Gary, Nate and Leon. Pascal and Simon wait outside in separate cars. I take no chances. It’s how I got to where I am today.

  A door on the other side of the dark room opens, and there she is, looking every inch as fucking gorgeous as she did at the party she threw. The one where she revealed herself to the whole damn underworld, or as good as. The one where she showed me that she made it, got to a place of power, and sure as shit has men falling at her feet.

  A motherfucking goddess.

  Walking towards the table that I sit at, she is wearing skin-tight, dark blue jeans, a white long-sleeved top that hugs every enticing curve of her body, and sexy-ass black boots that I would demand that she kept on whilst I fucked her, hard. Her long blond hair is pulled back, away from her face, allowing me to see every feature. Dark make-up lines her eyes, and her lips shimmer against the dim lighting of the room. Her grey eyes give nothing away. She’s got her guard up, and I’m going to have so much fun breaking the damn thing down.

  “Mr Valentine,” she says as she takes a seat opposite me, crossing her legs.

  “Miss Roderick,” I reply with a nod of my head. I would have called her Miss Daniels, but I’ll save that for when I really want to get to her. She changed her name for a reason, and I bet that reason has something to do with me. Call it intuition, call it self-righteousness, call it whatever the fuck you like. She was a Daniels when I first met her, but she is far from a Daniels now. The woman sat in front of me grew a back-bone and fought with the best of us. And now, she’s about to make her move.

  “So, here we are,” she says, sitting back and holding her hands out either side of her. Like a fucking queen. Damn, I’m going to have to knock her down a peg or two. She can’t run against me. I won’t allow it.

  “I guess so.”

  “All alone for the first time in three years,” she says, a smirk playing on her lips.

  “Alone? You mean you haven’t got a hoard of men waiting outside of this room, keeping watch, listening out to see if they need to come in here and save you?” I say sarcastically.

  She chuckles lightly, and it does things to my dick.

  “Come on, Joey, you know that I have no need to worry about being on my own with you,” she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “You sure about that?” I challenge her, raising my eyebrows.

  “I know you, Joey,” she says, her voice low.

  “You knew me back then, but you don’t know me now,” I assure her. It’s been three fucking years, I am not the person that I was back then.

  “You’re still the same guy.”

  “And how the fuck would you know?” I bite back.

  “I know more than you think.”

  “Well, why don’t you enlighten me?” I say, intrigued as to what she thinks she knows about me.

  “I know that you have a pocket knife tucked into your sock, a gun at your back and another one in the inside pocket of your jacket. Not to mention the guys waiting outside of this room and the two cars parked outside with your getaway drivers.” She looks more than satisfied with her answer, and I have to be honest, it pisses me the fuck off.

  “I also know that you’re here to speak to me about Ronnie Masters, and you’re here to try and decipher my game plan.”

  “None of those things are a secret.”

  “Maybe not, but the fact that you are planning to escape this life is,” she says and fuck if I’m not thrown for a loop. No one knows about my escape plan. No one. So how the hell does she know?

  I keep my face straight, not reacting.

  “Tell me, Joey. If you’re so intent on leaving this life behind, why the fuck do you care whether Ronnie Masters takes a shipment from me instead of from you?” she asks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts a little higher.

  I take a moment to digest her answer. I need to go careful here. She knows my biggest secret and she hasn’t wasted any time in letting me know.

  I sip my water, wetting my mouth. I show no sign of feeling intimidated, because I am the motherfucking king around here. Top dog. The main man, and I have no intention of becoming Paige Roderick’s bitch.

  “For starters, I have no idea where you get your intel from, but I can assure you that it is way off. And as for Ronnie Masters, I just want to know how you’re making any kind of money from the obviously shitty deal you’re getting, not to mention that you’re treading in my territory.”

  I close my mouth and wait. I’m on high alert, looking for any signs of weakness in her armour. Currently, there are none.

  “Your territory?” she questions. “What makes it yours?”

  “I’ve been running these streets for the last eight years. You do not get automatic rights to come here and attempt to take over.”

  “Why not? You always liked a challenge, Joey, and you don’t get to decide how this game plays out,” she replies, taunting me, goading me, fucking with me.

  “If you’re gonna play with the big boys then make sure you know what you’re doing, Paige. It takes more than riding some guys dick to get to the top of the chain,” I reply, trying to piss her off.

  “You think I got here by sucking cock, Joey?”

  “I said riding, but either would work on a weak man.”

  The bitter laugh she lets out irks me.

  “Are you weak, Joey?” she says, licking her lips.

  “You know better than anyone that I am in no way weak.”

  “Oh, I remember, baby,” she purrs and my dick twitches again. It’s the first time in years it has so much as tingled when a woman has been near me, and it just had to be fucking Paige that brought the damn thing to life.

  I clench
my jaw and her eyes light up as she notices. I try to relax, but fuck, she’s got me all tied up. Joey Valentine, fucked up over a woman. Never thought the day would come. But here we are, Paige and Joey, a blast from the past, and one that I want underneath me. We always had a crazy attraction and for me, it seems that hasn’t fucking changed.

  Paige stands up and walks around the table, slowly, until she is standing beside me. Her arm reaches out and she places her hand on the back of my chair, the other on the table in front of me. She bends down, placing her lips by my ear.

  “Tell me, Joey. Do you remember how good we were together? Do you remember how I screamed your name, how I doted on your every word and how you told me you loved me?”

  Her words. Her scent. Her plump lips so close have me clenching my fists.

  “Do you remember how you promised me the world, only to throw me away like fucking trash a few days later?” she continues, pushing every single button inside of me.

  “Do you remember how I begged you, pleaded with you to let me stay, let me be yours?”

  Fuck. Of course I remember. The look in her eyes from that day has never left me.

  “Well, baby,” she says, running her tongue along my ear lobe. “It’s payback time, and I’m here to teach you a fucking lesson.” Her words are laced with anger and hatred but fuck if they don’t get my blood pumping just a little bit faster.

  “So you want revenge?” I ask the question, even though it’s fairly obvious that she wants nothing more than to watch me fall.

  “You catch on quick, Joey,” she says, mocking me. “And let me tell you, you are going to be the one thrown into the gutter. You will be the one down on your knees, and you will be the one fucking begging me to give you one more chance.”

  Her words push me, they ignite a fire inside of me, and before I know it, I have her pinned against the wall, one hand holding her hip, the other wrapped lightly around her neck. And still there is nothing on her face but a smirk.

  “Still like it rough, huh, baby?” she says, and all I want to do is take her, fuck her, and make her mine.