* * *
“She’s peng. Right fit.”
* * *
I tossed the cigarette butt onto the ground, stomping it with my steel-toed boots.
* * *
“Ollie, bruv. Look at that.”
* * *
Using his lips, Rupert gestured ahead with his lips. Three hooded men were a couple blocks down, walking towards Malik and his counselor. I wouldn’t have thought anything of them until I saw the red bandana protruding from the front pocket of one of the fellows. Albanians.
* * *
Last week, we’d sent Malik and Pete up to handle a problem with the Albanians in Glasgow. With the Albanians, nothing is ever as easy as it seems. Pete got himself into trouble.
* * *
Pete was always getting himself into trouble. You could count on him for that. Up in Glasgow, he’d had too much to drink and run his mouth around the wrong crowd of Albanian psychos. A bar fight with fists escalated to a bar fight with knives, and from what I’d heard Malik threw in a few good punches. They left it at that and as far as I knew, the Albanians had no reason to take revenge.
* * *
But those were the Northern Albanians. The ones in London were a different breed, and while they were slated to obey the calls from the East and the North, they had their own code of honor in the city, and their own demands for respect and reparations for what may have dishonored their brothers in the North.
* * *
“Think we’ll ‘ave trouble?” Rupert grumbled.
* * *
I reached for the knife in my pocket.
* * *
“Bloody hope not.”
* * *
“Recognize any of ‘em?”
* * *
“Tall bloke might be Adnan.”
* * *
“The others?” Rupert confirmed, the dark circles around his eyes deepening the intensity of his icy blue stare as he switched from surveillance into self-defense.
* * *
“No clue. Maybe Dalmat. Maybe Luan.”
* * *
“Bastards.”
* * *
“Hang tight. We don’t know if they’ll cause trouble yet.”
* * *
“You can bet your arse they will,” Rupert grumbled.
* * *
We maintained our distance behind Malik and his counselor for a few more feet. Then Malik stopped. I placed a hand in front of Rupert, stopping us dead in our tracks too.
* * *
Rupert reached into his pocket for his weapon. My hands hovered over mine, but there was still no reason to rush into trouble — not yet.
* * *
Malik turned to his counselor and I watched him closely. Her expression turned into a terrified one and Malik grabbed her arm, squeezing her tightly. The Albanians closed in on them. We wouldn’t have much time until we found out just how much trouble they were going to get into.
* * *
“Brace yourself.”
* * *
The man I believed to be Adnan — all these bloody Albanians look alike after a while — pulled out a knife that glimmered in the evening light. He didn’t care to hide it, even on a block traveled by plenty coppers, families and kids.
* * *
“Malik!” His counselor shrieked.
* * *
“Leave her out of this mate. It’s between you and me.”
* * *
I couldn’t make out any of the gravely words that emerged from the Albanian’s mouth. Two of them grabbed Malik, wresting him away from his counselor.
* * *
“Should we step in,” Rupert grumbled.
* * *
Pressed up against a wall beneath the awning of a small shop, we were safely out of sight, giving us the element of surprise as an advantage if we needed it.
* * *
“One moment. Let’s watch the kid handle it.”
* * *
Malik stepped to them.
* * *
“Malik! Watch out!”
* * *
His counselor’s sharp, concerned voice pierced my eardrums and without warning Rupert, I lunged forward.
* * *
“Ollie!” He called after me.
* * *
It was too late for him to stop me. Within a few moments, I’d stepped into the fray. The Albanians had Malik restrained and one of them held a small pistol up to his counselor’s head.
* * *
Rupert was a few moments lagging behind me, so I lunged at the one with the gun first, kicking him in the gut with the hard tip of my boot. Surprised, he turned the gun off of her. She screamed, but stood there frozen and terrified. At that point, Rupert turned his attention to the two bastards holding Malik.
* * *
I had to hand it to the kid. He put up a big struggle. Even with a knife pressed to his side he kicked and wriggled like a worm on a hook, weaseling his arms out of their grasp. Rupert took the taller one and I took the man who was definitely Adnan. Rupert punched the guy in his face, enabling Malik to break free.
* * *
Malik joined him in holding his assailant and dropping him to the ground. With that guy on the ground, the one who had the gun to the counselor’s head was unoccupied and he lunged for the pistol that had clattered to the ground. I let go of the other guy, toppling him over as I lunged for the gun.
* * *
He got there first, but with his hands on the ground, I stomped on his fingers — hard.
* * *
“STOP! STOP THIS! I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”
* * *
The voice that spurred me into action continued shrieking, her voice growing more and more shrill. Fuck. An instinct that I’d never felt before kicked in and I found myself fighting not just for the pure lust of it, but to destroy a threat. Once a man can tap into that type of power, it’s purely dangerous.
* * *
I stomped on his fingers again and thrust my boot up into his lip. His face exploded like a tomato, blood gushing out of his nose as he screamed and fell back onto the ground. With one of the bastards disabled, I turned my attention to the other one. Rupert and Malik made sharp work of the tall one and left me to face off Adnan.
* * *
I could barely see his face, or make out whether he was afraid or willing to kill me. I didn’t care. I pulled my knife out of my waist band and brandished it, lunging forward for him. He spun around and dodged one knife wound, but as he did, he tripped over himself. One second of losing his balance was all it took. Holding the knife at my side, I kneed him in the groin and once he was on the ground, I slammed my foot into his side.
* * *
His ribs cracked — loudly. Malik’s counselor shrieked again.
* * *
“STOP! STOP! I’m calling the POLICE!”
* * *
With trembling hands, she reached for her purse. Rupert leapt off his feet, and grabbed her arm with his bloodied hands.
* * *
“You’ll do no such thing.”
* * *
“STOP IT! MALIK! MALIK!”
* * *
“Rupert, mate. Back off,” I uttered.
* * *
Rupert was under no obligation to listen to me. He outranked me. But when it came to street matters, he deferred to my wisdom when he saw fit. He dropped her arm and I stuck my hand out.
* * *
“You. Give me your purse.”
* * *
“She didn’t mean no harm, mate,” Malik said, leaping to her defense.
* * *
“Can’t ‘ave her calling the pigs.”
* * *
I rummaged through her purse and took her phone out, slamming it on the ground. Rupert stepped on it until it shattered. At this point, she was too shaken to even scream, and she stood frozen in dumb silence. I handed the purse over to Rupert.
* * *
“What the hell should we do with her?”
* * *
“Let her go!” Malik suggested.
* * *
I excused his insolence under the assumption that it was guileless. But I couldn’t let a teenager run things.
* * *
“Quiet, boy,” I growled.
* * *
“You. What’s your name?”
* * *
“Fuck off!” She spat, finding an ounce of bravery in her somewhere that had been lost when the Albanians came.
* * *
I liked that in a woman — spirit. Maybe she’d guessed that I wouldn’t hurt her, she could smell it on me. No matter what it was, I couldn’t help but appreciate it.
* * *
“Darling, I asked for your name,” I repeated.
* * *
“Don’t make ‘im ask again,” Rupert grunted, backing me up despite the mop of his red hair glued to his face, messy with the blood of the groaning, defeated Albanians.
* * *
“Sierra.”
* * *
“Last name,” I snarled.
* * *
“Sierra St. James.”
* * *
“You know him?” I gestured towards Malik.
* * *
“Yes. I’m his counselor.”
* * *
Malik whimpered, “Please, Ollie. Leave her alone. She didn’t do nothing wrong. She won’t squeal I promise.”
* * *
“We can’t take your word for it. She seemed pretty eager to squeal right then.”
* * *
“Someone’s bound to come ‘round this way soon. If I don’t call the coppers, someone else will.”
* * *
“But not you, princess. You’re coming with us.”
* * *
Rupert touched my arm and pulled me back just a bit.
* * *
“You sure, Ollie?”
* * *
“I’m sure. We’ll leave Adnan and his band of rats to pick up the pieces. We ought to get out of here.”
* * *
“I won’t go with you willingly,” she said, struggling to hold her voice steady against the terror that must have been surging through her veins.
* * *
God, I loved a fighter. I leaned and my lips curled into a cruel smile.
* * *
“That isn’t a problem, princess. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
* * *
“Careful, bruv,” Rupert warned.
* * *
“We’ll have to do it the hard way then,” she snarled, “‘Cause I won’t let the brotherhood get their filthy hands on me willingly.”
* * *
“Suit yourself.”
* * *
I dropped my weapons and grabbed her by the hips, tossing her over my shoulder like a college textbook.
* * *
“AIIIEEEE! MALIK!”
* * *
“Don’t hurt her!” Malik begged.
* * *
He bit down on his lower lip, the guilt and shame visible on his face. I couldn’t figure out what it was Pete saw in this boy. Perhaps it was loyalty. It certainly wasn’t ruthlessness. He looked at Sierra like a lost puppy, with all the terror and sorrow you’d expect one to feel at the prospect of abandonment. Once she realized that we wouldn’t kill her, she lost all signs of weakness. She didn’t break eye contact with me once, her downturned almond eyes locked with mine and I could see all the fury, rage and passion burning behind them.
* * *
She was small, but fierce, and my attraction to her was more than a nice bum, and perfect tits. I could see that now as I stared at her. Too bad, she’d fallen into a snare that I’d only set by accident. I’d never let a woman like that go — no matter what.
* * *
“We ain’t gonna hurt her,” Rupert growled, “Don’t question Sir Cook here.”
* * *
Malik bit his tongue, wisely. Sierra on the other hand, pounded her fists against my back with all her might. She was no match for me.
* * *
“Let’s go boys. Let’s get this one out of here. We’ve got bigger problems on our hands.”
* * *
“Let go of me!” She screamed, in utter futility, as I carried her away.
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Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading my book.
For making it all the way to the end of this book, I want to offer you a
Out of Bondage Page 24
