All Screwed Up (Belial's Disciples Book 2)

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All Screwed Up (Belial's Disciples Book 2) Page 21

by AJ Adams


  “I’m good.” I downed the gin. I’d get drunk. That would sort me out. “I’ll have another of these. A double.”

  Lacy smiled. “It’s been a wild day. Let’s get smashed.”

  “I see you’ve found a soulmate, Rex,” Lilac giggled.

  “We’re both totally slutty,” Lacy laughed.

  “And well matched when it comes to gin,” Aurora smiled.

  Much to my surprise, the girls were bonding. Lilac and Aurora are undoubtedly the best bartending team among all the Disciples clubs, but as most of us get laid more often than carpet tiles, they tend to keep girls at a distance. Most unusually, they’d taken to Lacy practically instantly.

  Aurora got to her feet and hugged Lacy. “Welcome to the club, love. We have to go. Our shift starts in a few minutes.”

  “If you need a hand, I’ve done some bar work,” Lacy offered.

  “Talk to Kraken,” Lilac said instantly.

  “We can always do with more staff,” Aurora agreed.

  “And I need to make some money,” Lacy admitted.

  “Not tonight,” I told her firmly. “Come on, Lacy. Sit and take it easy a minute.” It hadn’t passed me by that she was moving stiffly.

  As the executive were playing pool, we had the table to ourselves. Lacy shifted over, snuggling into my side. “I’m a bit sore,” she murmured.

  “Let me see.” The club is like an old-fashioned pub with a horseshoe bar and pool table at one end and a snug filled with wing chairs and small tables at the other. It’s always busy, but as it’s members only, it still feels private.

  The executive were now noisily cheering Kraken and Crush who were racking up the balls while the associates were busy boozing it up. Viper, Fred, and Drew were there, along with the gang from the garage, the takeaway, and the fairground crew. A dozen village girls were floating about, Disciples affiliates and casual girlfriends, all dressed in tank tops and tiny shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

  Nobody was watching us. I lifted Lacy’s tee and saw the red mark on her stomach where Barrows had punched her was quietly turning black. Seeing it, fury ran hot through my veins. “I should have killed him.”

  “The punch you got in was a good one,” Lacy assured me. Then, dropping her voice, “I’m awfully sorry, Rex.”

  I didn’t get it. “He hit you, remember?”

  Lacy’s eyes flickered. “I know you’re fed up with having me around. But maybe I could work here? There are rooms upstairs, and as it’s Disciples territory, I’ll be safe.”

  Shame invaded me, sickening my senses. She’d asked about my mum because she was worried about me. I should have been grateful but being a sodding selfish bastard, I’d lashed out at her. Instead of giving me what for, she blamed herself.

  “You’re staying with me,” I told her. “And no arguing.”

  “But Rex, I was supposed to stay a weekend, not weeks.”

  “Lucky me.” I hugged her to me gently, aware of her hurts. “I’m a bad-tempered bugger, and the next time I give you any grief, you should boot me in the arse.”

  Lacy’s smile could’ve been measured in miles. “I’d try, but I suspect that might be quite hard. Unless you promise to stand still.”

  It touched me, that friendly teasing. Not a word of complaint or criticism, just a happy grin. Lacy was one hundred percent genuine.

  “I don’t like to talk about my mum,” I heard myself say. “Her death haunts me.”

  God knows where that came from, but it was out there.

  Lacy simply hugged me. The soft skin and sweet scent of flowers over warm girl went straight to my heart. She was scared for her life and career, and in pain, and there she was, giving me comfort. “Want to tell me?” she murmured.

  I hung on to her and spilled. “We were out riding in the woods behind Perdition. Misty stumbled.” I could see it, the horse dipping suddenly and Mum going over her shoulder. She’d slammed into a low wall with a crack that haunted my dreams. “Mum took a tumble and smashed her back.”

  “Oh, Rex,” Lacy’s eyes were filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It didn’t hurt at first,” I told her. “But when the shock wore off -”

  I couldn’t go on. I had a flash of Lacy flying through the air. For a horrible moment, I’d thought history was repeating itself, and all the horror had rushed back. I knew why my hands were shaking and my stomach was in knots.

  “She cried because it hurt so much,” I was still numb at the memory. “And I couldn’t help her.”

  I’d called for an ambulance, and they’d turned up almost instantly, but then they’d hung about at the edge of the stream that flowed around the wood. I found out later that regulations meant they weren’t allowed to cross without the supervision of a safety officer.

  “Nobody did a thing. I was helpless.”

  Lacy just held on to me. “Just let it out, love,” she murmured.

  “When they finally came, she was unconscious. They put her on life support, but there was too much damage.” The doctor had been kind, but I remembered her every word as if it were carved into my soul. “There was no hope, so I signed a paper, and they switched off the machine.”

  “Your father?” Lacy whispered.

  “Devastated by grief. He died in his sleep just a week later. A broken heart, I think.”

  “And your brother?”

  “In Africa. He was in the middle of fighting a war.”

  She patted me gently. “You did what was needed, love. You were there for your mum and your dad.”

  “But I almost lost the estate. The bank pulled the plug. If it hadn’t been for Caden, the Winslow heritage would have ended.” I was spilling my guts, revealing all my weaknesses. “I completely fucked up.”

  “Rex, you run a super successful business, you’re making money hand over fist, and everyone admires you.”

  “Hardly. Remember what David said?”

  Over at the pool table, Crush sank the black, making Kraken groan in despair and announce, “I demand a rematch! Best out of three.”

  Lacy gazed at them and then took in the rest of the club. Viper was snogging with one of the girls, Fred and Drew were watching football, and Aurora had put on her evening work kit, meaning she wore heels, shorts, a hat and nothing in between.

  Lacy smiled at me. “David is a hypocrite. He’s crooked, and he hides it. You’re upfront about who and what you are. As for your mates, they’re as open and straightforward as you.”

  It was what I’d told myself, but I wasn’t feeling it. “We’re not exactly lily-white.”

  “Who is?” Lacy shrugged. “All your posh pals, the ones who flock to your house, are wheeling and dealing.”

  “That’s not dishonest.”

  “Yeah, right,” Lacy gave me an old-fashioned look. “When it comes to power, that lot leave the mafia and the cartel standing. Look at how they make Ollie pay to join them.”

  I had to smile. “Ollie?”

  “Sir Oliver Prescott asked me to call him that.” Lacy stuck her nose in the air, mocking, “We plebs stick together, you know.”

  “Now he’s a knight; he’s nobility now. Or perhaps, just a knob.”

  I got an elbow in the ribs for that. “Cheeky,” Lacy giggled.

  DT went to the antique jukebox we all loved and fed in a bunch of coins. When ‘Bad To The Bone’ floated out, Fred and Drew were on their feet. Hamming it up, they played air guitar as the crowd whooped encouragement.

  “Love this song,” Lacy sighed.

  It was as if a weight lifted from my shoulders. I put my arms around her, revelling in the sweet softness of her.

  “You are going to build your marina,” Lacy smiled. “That will give you a boost.”

  “I want to swap it for Perdition,” I confessed.

  “Will your brother agree?”

  “Yes. He’s the best.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” Lacy said simply.

  She was beautiful inside and out
. I gazed into the cornflower blue eyes, took in the deliciously curved lips, and then I kissed her. Her arms were cinching around me instantly, pulling that lush body against mine. I sank into that embrace, closing my eyes and revelling in her soft lips, silken skin and rich perfume.

  A million years later, we came up for air. I cuddled her close to me, aware the enveloping darkness had vanished.

  She wriggled luxuriously in my lap, giggling as she felt the evidence of my need for her. “Want to go bury that wood?”

  “You’re stiff and sore.”

  She batted her eyes mock seductively. “I hear exercise is good for that.”

  “Then we absolutely must go for a workout.”

  As we exited, pursued by wolf whistles and catcalls, I blessed myself again for being the luckiest man in England. We kissed in front of the kitchen door, on the stairs, in the corridor and then I was stripping off the polka dot dress, revealing lush Lacy underneath.

  “I need this,” she sighed. “It’s been a bitch of a day.”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve bruises on your lower back and shoulders.”

  “Aha.”

  “And on your front,” my hands were curling again at the sight.

  “I know.” She had her arms around my neck, pressing high soft breasts against me. “You feel good.”

  “Aren’t you sore?”

  She licked my collarbone, soft tongue flickering sinuously against my skin, setting off goose bumps. “Not anymore.”

  We rolled into bed, wrapped around each other, rising and falling together in a rhythm as old as time. It was more than physical; it was a blending of souls. Afterwards, we lay entwined, comfortable and sated.

  “That was beautiful,” Lacy sighed.

  I was too full of emotion to speak. I kissed the damp, dark tresses, feeling light as air. That’s when it struck me that I was happy. More than that: I was finally at peace with myself again. I glanced up at the silver-framed picture that stood on my bedside table. My mum and dad were smiling at me as always, and gazing at them, all I felt was love and gratitude. The guilt and horror were gone.

  I looked down at Lacy. She was fast asleep. Curling myself carefully around her, I tugged the duvet over us and tucked her in. She half woke up, took hold of my hand, and then she was out again.

  That hand in mine went straight to my heart. This is what I wanted: a girl by my side. And not just any girl but one who was brave, honest and true. Contemplating the raven wing black hair and beautiful bones, I kissed her again softly.

  Life with Lacy would be wild: she’d not hold back with love or criticism. Thinking of how brave she was, I knew it was a fantasy. I wanted her, longed to keep her, but it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be right. Being near me was bound to end in tears.

  My newfound happiness faltered. To find love after so long, only to have it snatched away, would kill me. I glanced at the picture by the side of the bed again and dared to hope. Maybe there was a solution. I’m not religious, I never was, but I found myself petitioning heaven, Mum, Dad, if you can see me, please help me. I need love in my life again. Maybe it was my imagination, but I felt a shifting in the air. It felt like encouragement. Soothed, I closed my eyes and fell into instant slumber.

  Trouble had become so much a part of my life that I woke up the following morning, determined to go for it. I bounced out of bed, challenged Lacy to a pushup race - and when she beat me easily, we celebrated with a bonk.

  “You lost, so you go on top,” Lacy giggled.

  We started the day with a bang, and it went straight downhill from there.

  Lacy was scrambling eggs when Crush pitched up, grumpier than a bear woken midwinter. “Snake called. His workshop went up in flames last night.”

  My stomach plunged. “Anyone hurt?”

  “Thankfully just one man with smoke inhalation.”

  I got it back together again. “Arson?”

  “Yes. Witnesses saw two Fireblades drive off.”

  The Horde’s favourite bikes. “Sounds like the war has started.”

  “Looks like,” Crush agreed. “Poison called too. He says they beat off armed robberies on their pub and garage.”

  “Fighting on all fronts then.”

  “Kraken and Flash went over to help Snake, and I sent Fred and Drew to Poison.”

  “But our properties are intact. Why didn’t he hit us, too?”

  “Pig attacked Skegness and Durham knowing that they’ll have to go on full alert.” Crush was way ahead of me.

  “Fuck, if they have to sit tight at home, we can’t rely on them for backup.”

  “Exactly,” Crush said grimly. “Pig made the same move when he came to Lincoln. He smashed his opposition’s support structure, and when they were isolated, he took over.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Tonight we’re going to Grantham.”

  “What the hell is in Grantham?”

  “A very talented gardener who grows great weed. Pig owns half of his farm. Once we burn it down, he’ll lose a good chunk of his revenue stream.”

  As you can’t run a business without money, it was a smart move. But that’s Crush: sneaky and ruthless; it’s a killer combination.

  “Kraken texted,” Crush said. “Some of the tourists are complaining on TripAdvisor about wine lake plonk being sold as quality vino.”

  My mind flashed back to Lacy discovering her ‘death’ on Twitter. “So Pig is attacking Bonnington after all.”

  “And hitting us where it hurts,” Crush growled. “We need the holiday pound, Rex. We can’t have visitors cancelling their trips to Bonnington. But I know sod all about wine.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  On cue, Wally, the boss of the Dog and Duck rang. “Rex, I got a line on your stolen port.”

  “Awesome!”

  “Sadly, it’s not,” Wally sounded ticked. “These blokes pitched up late last night with a bottle. They let me know it was one of yours. I didn’t let on we were mates.”

  “Terrific. Did you find out where they’re stashing my wine?”

  “I asked to taste it,” Wally explained. “The label looked okay, but the port was plain old supermarket ruby.”

  “Hell.”

  “Trevor at the Oak Leaf says he got a visit too. He can’t tell vintage port from turpentine and got stuck with six cases of crap.”

  “Serves him right.”

  “I made some calls,” Wally continued. “La Bella Italia, the Dancing Joker, and Feathers Hotel all got the same offer, and the daft buggers all bought six cases each.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The Horde had put around the word that they’d pinched my port in order to hawk their cheap hooch as the real deal.

  “Thanks, Wally. If you’re in later, I have a bottle of grand cru here with your name on it.” I’d take Lacy for dinner, and see that fake label at the same time. I had little doubt it was Barrows’ work.

  When I hung up, Crush was swearing. “The tourist development committee want us to join them this morning. They want our input.”

  Lacy put down plates of creamy scrambled eggs, generously giving Crush one as well. “About that development committee,” my girl had been listening in and coming to her usual accurate conclusions. “They’ll be screaming about the bad reviews.” She plonked down a giant pot of tea, nice and strong, just the way I liked it. “Bet Jason and Pig sold fake booze and then hot-tailed it back home to post those reviews.”

  It was just what I was thinking. “I’ll put the hacker team on it straight away. Hopefully, they can block their access.”

  Lacy was tucking in. It was amazing; she was beautiful even when forking up eggs. I had to keep her safe. I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  She should have been worrying about herself, but the silly generous girl was thinking of my problems. “Looks like Pig’s up to your plan; he’s trying to kill Bonnington, knowing it’s where your money is.”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Crush growled. “Ho
w good are your ex’s forging skills?”

  “I’d be guessing, but as he’s a top photographer, and his Photoshopping is superb, I’d suspect he’s fantastic,” Lacy replied. “You know, back when the plods raided his cottage, he had a stack of concert tickets on his desk.”

  “Whose?” I asked.

  “One for your rock fest,” Lacy said immediately. “And I also remember tickets for Ozzy Osbourne, Lucy Dacus, and Pallbearer.”

  “Fuck,” Crush groaned. “If he was faking those, the Horde must have a massive war chest.”

  Lacy was checking her Twitter feed. “Mrs. Hyde has stopped moaning about her ring, but the news is still doing the rounds. I think the Horde is boosting it.” She pushed her phone my way. “The Rampage is particularly nasty. They’re aiming at you, Rex.”

  That bloody ring! It’s unfair, but when guests lose their things, the host is somehow held responsible. I read the headline, missing heirloom at Perdition and girl about town robbed at swanky Perdition house party and knew this was trouble.

  “Harding is on it,” Crush was reading my mind. “But he doesn’t approve of us, so he’s going to drag his feet.”

  “Since the party, he’s been scrupulous about passing information and working together.”

  “Yes, Sir William put the wind up him,” Crush grinned. “It is useful to have the lord lieutenant as a godfather.”

  “Isn’t it?” But I was thinking that arson and armed robbery meant we were back in the thick of things, and that meant collateral damage. What an expression, right? Collateral damage sounds like the kind of mess you get when your mates trash your room at school but what it really means is blood. Blood, tears and sometimes death.

  “I’ll go and sort through my photos of the village and the bay,” Lacy was putting her plate in the dishwasher. “What we need is a stream of happy snaps that will drown out all this negative shit.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Lacy disappeared upstairs, Crush was mopping up the last of his eggs. “Aside from the blackmail and the mouthiness, she’s a nice girl.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Crush pushed away his plate and sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But if there’s trouble in the village and they think Lacy is to blame, it will reflect badly on us.”

 

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